The Art of Deception
by Tears of Eternity
Summary: Who am I? My name is Ariana. But you can just call me Aria." She's the girl with the perfect life. But no one know about the "training" her parents put her through. What happens when she lands in ME and meets a certain golden-haired Elf? CH. 13 UP!
1. Chapter One: Aria

**What You See…**

Hey peepulz! This is my first LOTR fic, so don't blame me if I'm not so good at it! I'm not sure if this is a Mary-Sue fic or not…but oh well! On with the show, or story. Oh, and I don't own LOTR, J.R.R. Tolkien does. If you don't know that, then you better go back and read those books before coming here! This is probably just another typical girl finds herself in M.E. thingie, but I hope not! Hope you like it!

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Chapter One: Aria

Who am I?

My name is Ariana.

But my friends just call me Aria.

I have what some people would call "a perfect life."

I'm a straight-A freshman student at Morris High. I'm also very popular, probably because of my hair. Do you know? It's silver. Not like, old age silver, but silver-silver. That's the only feature of mine that I'm proud of. My eyes are gray, for some strange reason, pale and drab. I'm way too short—only 5'4. I don't have the perfect body, like my best friend Lilly, but I'm not completely lacking in that area. I'm also president of the Student Council.

Aside from that, I tend to have a very short temper, though I've been working on it. I'm generally very easygoing, though I am very stubborn about some things. I love to read and am now partly obsessed with _The Lord of the Rings._ But basically anything having to do with fantasy is fine. My parents, Jack and Sarah Monteaar, teach martial arts and have become extremely wealthy and famous from that. My little brother, Johnny, is seven years old and has a condition in which he is extremely weak and will be for the rest of his life, but he is a cheerful boy. I love him more than anything in the world. We all live in a gigantic five-story mansion, with swimming pool, servants, and everything. They are loving and kind parents, cheering me on in everything I do. My perfect life. Yup. Perfect.

That's what everyone sees.

No one ever sees the other side, the other angle. I'm just like another "Mary-Sue", like in people's fanfiction stories on the Internet. 

My parents…

Silver hair. My father used to tell me everyday when I was little that I was his silver-haired little angel. That was then…this is now.

When I was around nine, things changed. My parents transformed from the happy, loving people they used to be into what they are now—hard and cruel, indulging in others' pain and misery. My life changed from the joyful, sweet moments I remember even now into a twisted, warped world created by those that I had loved most. Life jerked me out of my sweet childhood dreams, casting me into a place dank and miserable, harsh and unreal.

It all began when I was nine. Yes, I remember. The scene sticks in my memory, like a rock that is immovable, untouchable. The leaves had just begun to blossom into their orange and yellow hues as autumn approached. I had just skipped into the house after another day of school, happily preparing to tell my parents that I had been chosen for the lead in the school play. Walking through the doors, I walked through the silent living room. "Mommy! Daddy! Guess what? I got the lead! I get to be Helen!" I shouted joyfully, as I ran into the kitchen, where I knew my parents would be, cooking. There was the cook, of course, but my parents enjoyed cooking. 

They weren't there.

_Thinking they must have decided to do something else,_ I remember thinking. I ran upstairs, to the fifth floor. My parents stood sat, silent, unmoving on the couch in front of the TV. It wasn't even on. "Guess what, Mommy and Daddy? I got the lead," I announced as I strolled in. Slowly, my mom turned. I fell back a pace. Her usually warm, gentle sky blue eyes were ice cold. They pierced me like arrows. "Hello, darling," she said coldly. I was confused. Mommy never called me darling! Pumpkin, or angel, perhaps, but never darling. 

"Darling is a term used by polite strangers, not family," she used to say. "Come with me," she said in that icy cold voice again, standing up and walking out the door. My daddy followed. Though I was confused, I didn't hesitate. I trusted my parents with all my heart and would have followed them off a cliff if they had asked me to. We walked down the hall and into the practice room, where they would train some of their best students in swordsmanship. My mom picked something up off the ground. So did my father.

"Mommy, Daddy?" I asked, still confused, "What are we doing in here? Are you going to show me something?"

I got my answer quickly enough.

Swinging around sharply, my mother hit me in the face with the flat of a thin sword. I stood there, my cheek swelling, staring at my mother. She had hit me! My beloved Mommy had hit me! My father proceeded to do the same, causing my other cheek to turn red and begin swelling. 

"Mommy! Daddy! What's wrong?" I cried out.

That seemed to be signal of sorts. I received the beating of my life. Cuts appeared on my arms and legs, bruises on my face. I was screaming, screaming in pain. I ran to the corner. They followed. My parents were cold, silent, administering the beating as if unable to hear my screams, my shouts. I curled up in a ball, trying to block out the pain.

"Mommy! Daddy! What's wrong? You're hurting me! Stop it!" I often shouted, crying from the pain. Just when I thought that I could stand no more, it stopped. I lay there, bleeding from a numerous number of wounds. Stars were dancing in front of my eyes. I was slowly slipping away into darkness.

I heard my mother say in the same, calm cold voice, "Your training in the martial arts starts now. That pain is nothing to what will come as you learn, so you better get used to it. Do not try to flee from this house. If you do so, we will kill Johnny. Do not speak to anyone of this. Your brother will suffer if you do. Though it will not help if you try to tell someone. From now on, you will address us as Mother and Father. This shall be your new bedroom. I will have a new wardrobe designed for you. You will not need your belongings."

They walked out of the room. I heard the door slam and their footsteps as they walked down the stairs. I was dazed and hurt. The pains on my body were nothing to the pains in my heart. What had happened to my parents? I had to call the police. But my mother's words still rang in my mind. _Do not try to flee from this house. If you do so, we will kill Johnny. Do not speak to anyone of this. Your brother will suffer if you do. _I dared not tell anyone. Struggling, I managed to sit up and crawl to the bathroom to try to clean myself up. Supporting myself on the sink, I slowly stood up, my body in pain. I was surprised that I hadn't fainted. I looked into the mirror.

To my complete astonishment, I looked no different from when I had just come in! My clothes were perfectly in place. There was not a cut on my body. I looked as if nothing had happened. But I could feel every cut, every bruise on my body. I remembered my mother's words. _It will not help if you try to tell someone._ So this is what she had meant. I looked down at myself, there was no blood, though I could feel it trickling down my arm, no bruises though I could feel numerous bruises all over my body. I took away the hand that was supporting me in order to touch my face, where I could feel my lip bleeding, but fell as I lost my balance. I sat down hard on the stone floor. _Strange, I never noticed that this floor wasn't carpeted,_ I thought vaguely. 

The school play was forgotten.

My life ended right then and there. A new one began. Every day, I would come home from school and begin training. I was trained in every single type of martial arts and weapon known. Sword, bow, karate, fencing. A beating would be administered every day. I would not try to avoid it, knowing it was inevitable and not wanting to endanger my younger brother. I eventually learned not to cry out, as crying out resulted in more severe beatings. I was forbidden to sing and dance, things which I wanted most to do. I loved to sing and dance. I was allowed to read, but had no time to. Popularity became a necessity—another law decreed by my parents, backed up by threats. And so I worked for my popularity, sometimes doing things that I normally wouldn't have done, always up for any dares the popular group wanted to do. I gained quite a reputation at school as the sort of quiet, but daredevil silver-haired girl, and it was a reputation that I had to maintain. Combine that with my best friend Lilly's outgoing and friendly antics, we were a well-known pair at school. Homework from school was to be done before coming home, as training began the moment I walked in. My body became accustomed to the pain of sharp things piercing my skin and bruises everywhere. But that was my life.

I'd like to begin again.

Hi, my name is Ariana Monteaar, but you can just call me Aria.

Yes, Aria… the perfect one. Straight-A student, student council president, popular girl with silver hair. Beautiful, charming, fun. 

Abused by my parents, blackmailed, beaten, forced to do anything and everything.

I'd like to welcome you to my life.

Remember? My _perfect life._

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YAY!!! I'm done with the first chappie! This was kinda a spur of the moment thing, so please tell me if I should continue. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!! Gently though, if you didn't like it!

                                                ~Lady of Dreams~


	2. Chapter Two: Morning and Memories

OH MY GOD  I just saw _the two towers. IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOX1000000000000000 GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN"T FIND THE WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW GOOD IT WAS! IF U HAVEN"T SEEN IT, GO SEE IT SOON!!!!!!!! BEST BEST BEST MOVIE EVER!!! OK, I'm over that now… whew! Just had to get it out of my system, but seriously it was great! NE ways, on with stuff to do with the story now_

I'm really really sorry it took so long to update, but it was the last week of school and all the teachers seemed to think that it was a great idea to have a test in every subject and throw in a few projects as well. It was so hectic! I'm sleep-deprived! Ok, I'll stop whining about that now. It's Christmas break and I'll be updating more! YAY! CHRISTMAS!!!! Sry, I'm kinda weird, but you'll get used to it eventually. Thanx for all the encouraging reviews! I feel so loved! ^_^  Ok, so I admit it, my character is very Mary-Sue like. Perfect with a tragic life. *sighs* oh well, I'm not a good enough writer to make her not so perfect and still like my story. I don't mind mary-sues that much as long as they're not too, too perfect. Well, I've just written one so, I guess I gotta like em! :) If you don't like mary-sues and think this story sucks, please just don't review and keep any nasty comments to yourself. On the other hand, it you DO like kinda mary-sue stories, then review! 

I'll try along the way to make my character less mary-sue, but don't blame me if I don't get it right. I'm new to this mary-sue not mary-sue thing. **Do people generally hate mary-sues by the way? Well, enough rantings and ravings about mary-sues and on with the next chappie!!**

P.S. by the way, I don't think I explained enough about Aria's past and her current situation so I'm gonna elaborate on that in this chapter. I'm not sure if I can work it into the chapter that well though, so it might be a bit weird. DARN! I'V ALREADY GONE ON FOR ABOUT HALF THE PAGE!!!! YOU GUYS GOTTA WARN ME NOT TO RAMBLE ON LIKE THIS!!! WELL, **NOW WITH THE NEXT CHAPPIE! ^_^**

Chapter Two: Morning and Memories

_I live behind a mask of lies_

_            Which none may penetrate but myself_

_            And each day brings a new sunrise_

_            Lost on these eyes that see nothing else_

_            But the harsh cruelties of the world_

_I drink in air of poisonous fumes_

_            Tinged with hatred_

_            Flavored with bitterness_

_I look upon a place unreal_

_            Filled with monsters unimaginable_

_            Of horrors unforgivable_

_I ask, "What is love?"_

_            For no such thing could exist_

_            In a place so covered_

_            With anger_

_I tell you, "Fear is all that is,"_

_            For only fear can survive_

_            In a world such as this_

_            And anger thrive_

_            On the pain of others_

_"What is this place?" you ask._

_            This is the mind._

_            The only place such things may dwell._

_            Where thoughts unholy_

_            Live on, strive forward._

_For the mind,_

_            Yes, the mind,_

_                        Cannot be influenced by anything_

_                                    No, not anything_

_                                                But yourself._

_            The words died out, only to be replaced by the voices again. Yes, the voices. Those which haunted her dreams; those which disrupted sleep, the only rest she could claim in this God-forsaken "home." There they were again._

_"Where are Mommy and Daddy?"_

_"Harden your heart. To love is to ask for more pain."_

_"I know they're here somewhere. Where are they?"_

_"Don't love, don't make friends. It will only lead to more pain and suffering."_

_"Why did they hurt me?"_

_"Train. Focus your mind on training."_

_"I know they couldn't have meant it."_

_"Block out all else."_

_"They were probably just angry at someone."_

_"Focusing on this will be life from now."_

_"I know they would be really sorry if I asked them."_

_"Slowly shut your heart. Then no more pain will come."_

_"Mommy and Daddy have always been so nice!"_

_"You will be free. You can seek your revenge."_

_"What happened? I gotta find them!"_

_"Block out everyone, yes block them all out, yes, yes—"_

_Do not listen to them. Hear my words and obey. Keep on going like you were. Do not turn back. Do not look back._

_And he said, "Do not fear, for we will all be waiting. We shall love you. We shall hold you as one of us. We shall—"_

_Obey me. Only me and none else. Listen!_

_"And love. For that is your destiny. That is everyone's destiny. And only then will you—"_

_The voices all began to run into each other, all talking at once. Everything was rumbling. The voices were swelling louder and louder. My head was going to explode!_

_"Stop! Stop!" I screamed._

_But they just continued. It was driving me crazy. I wanted to die, to fall away into darkness, anything to make them stop! _

_"Stop it! Stop it!" I half-screamed, half-sobbed, clutching my head. Dazzling colors were bursting before my eyes. All was red, then orange, then yellow, then gold—_

I woke up, screaming, "Stop!" I quickly sat down, hard. I was at the landing of the stairs of the third floor. I had sleepwalked again. One more step and I would have tumbled down the stairs. I had no clue how I'd even managed to make it to the landing of the third floor. _Dammit__! I thought angrily to myself, __I forgot to lock the damned door last night! I had a bad habit of sleepwalking. It had started after my parents changed…when the voices began. They disrupted my sleep sometimes occasionally, sometimes every day, sometimes leaving me for months at a time, for which I was grateful. But they always came again, no matter what I did._

I stomped, purposely making as much noise as possible, back up the stairs. The house was as quiet as a graveyard. I had not woken my parents. I never did. They never seemed to hear my screams, as I had woken up screaming many a time from dreams. Johnny always stayed in their room. I don't know where he slept. The master bedroom, the last time I'd seen it (which was quite a long time ago), was not very large. Since the change with my parents, I had not been allowed in. Of course, I had tried, but the only thing it gained me was a few more invisible bruises. I constantly worried about this, but I could not do anything about it. From the times that I had seen him, which was also not often, he looked rather healthy. I was scared for him, of what my parents might do. For that, I tried to do whatever my parents set me to do. One wrong move, word, even thought could get little Johnny I trouble. It had happened once, long ago…

"Pick up the sword."

I was sitting on the hard wooden floor. I was so tired. Everything in the room was spinning. _Loss of blood, I thought to myself, __and I can't even see it! I was so, mortally tired. If I could just faint or something, just drift away. The weariness, oh, the bone-deep weariness was getting to me even quicker than the pain. _

But I knew the pain would reach me eventually. It always did. 

"Pick up the sword," the cold, toneless voice of my father repeated.

Still I sat, as if glued to the floor. My brain didn't seem to be functioning properly. I should have been picking up the arrow. I willed my arm to move, but it didn't. _Of course body parts don't move just because you will it to, I thought to myself, disgusted by this weakness, __you have to move it. I tried to raise my arm. I couldn't. __Is it broken? I thought dazedly to myself. No, no it wasn't. I was just too weary, too tired to do anything other than sit there. Fog seemed to be clouding my brain. __Move, my brain was commanding. But still I sat. __Johnny, my conscience whispered. __Damn Johnny, I thought in a sudden spurt of anger, __does he even know what I go through each day to spare him pain? Why me? Why shouldn't he feel the pain too? I immediately regretted thinking such a thing. Dimly, in some inner reach of my mind, I realized that these were my true, deeper feelings. But my surface mind began reprimanding me at once. __How can you think like that? Do you want Johnny to suffer? You know his health couldn't take that He would die. How can you be such a cruel monster? How can you even think that? I was feeling very guilty now, ashamed of my thoughts._

I had to get up, had to pick up the sword. But I was so _tired! I couldn't seem to move. I still sat. _

My father looked at me with cold eyes. "So you won't pick it up then?"

_Pick it up! my mind screamed. I opened my mouth to reply, but the words didn't come. _

"Very well," my father said, "Sarah?"

"My mother walked through the door. Johnny was with her.

"Johnny!" I gasped, my throat unsticking, voice hoarse and unrecognizable.

He smiled at me, that sweet, innocent smile of a typical child, angelic and radiant. I felt my heart melt. Any bad thoughts I might have harbored about him were dispelled. His eyes gazed into mine, full of trust, of adoration. I realized something then. _He trusts me. He would probably follow me off a cliff if I asked him to. Oh gods… If they hurt him, how will I ever forgive myself. He's putting his life in my hands! Johnny had sky blue eyes, crystal clear that were as innocent as a newborn lamb's. His wavy hair was short and light blonde. His body was frail and weak. He was skinny for his age, short too. All of that was because of his sickness. He was born with a disease that made him very weak. But despite all that, he was always happy, always had a smile for everyone, a smile that could melt the ice of winter. All of the kids adored him, even the seniors from high school. He could charm anyone in a few seconds without even realizing it, with those huge blue eyes!_

He looked neither like my mother or father. Then again, neither did I. My mother had short, wavy brown hair and brown eyes. Those eyes had usually been filled with warmth and kindness, like brown honey. Now they were cold and bleak, stark and unforgiving. My father also had brown hair, though his was lighter. His eyes, though, were green, like forests and meadows. Now they only contained emptiness and cruelty. Nope, neither Johnny or I ever looked like our parents in any way.

"You disobeyed us," my mother spoke, a cold fire lighting her eyes, "and for that, he shall be punished." Without another word, she slapped Johnny, hard across the face. The blow knocked him backwards, his skinny arms and legs flailing. He sat up, a red welt beginning to rise where she had hit him. His eyes were surprised and in pain. Then my father hit him with the flat of the blade he was holding, his lips parting in a cruel grin, distorted. Johnny was knocked backwards once again. His eyes were now fearful. My mother took up a blade and cut his arm. Red blood spilled onto the floor. Johnny screamed in pain. It was a horrible scream, one which would haunt my nightmares for many years to come. He scrambled onto his feet, trying to run. He was cornered, though, with blows of swords raining on him. 

He was screaming, "Mommy, Daddy, stop it! Ari, help me! Help, Ari! Ari! Ari!"

My mind was screaming at me to help him, to run over there and shield him from the blows that were cutting him, drenching the floor in crimson blood. I was still trying to move. _No, this isn't right, my mind shouted. I could feel the strength in my bones. I was still tired, but not enough that I couldn't stand. Something was holding me to the floor. I was frozen, held in place! __The invisible nets! I suddenly realized._

The invisible nets were something designed by my parents for the training course I went through every day. They were ordinary nets, strong and tough, but coated with something that made them invisible. Usually, you didn't know it had fallen over you until you realized that you couldn't move. _Stupid, stupid! I cursed myself. How could I have forgotten about the invisible nets? They were all over, triggered by a touch, extremely sensitive. When you stumbled into one, you had to get it off very carefully. If you just tried to blunder through it, you would probably give yourself tons of cuts. They were made out of some sort of material that was soft and flexible, but still cut as sharply as a blade. Johnny's screams were growing louder, more anguished. He was still screaming, "Ari, help me!" as if I could somehow save the day. My heart constricted, feeling every ounce of pain he felt._

I carefully and expertly detached myself from the net and sprang forward, intent on doing anything and everything I could to stop my parents from hurting Johnny any further. But before I could take more than two steps, I triggered another invisible net. I stared at the other side of the room, where my parents were abusing poor Johnny, in despair. They must have rigged the whole place with invisible nets! At that moment, I felt like crying. I would never get there in time to stop them from seriously damaging, or even killing—my blood ran cold at the thought, Johnny. I fought for control; weeping would not help, neither would panicking.

Drawing in a deep breath, I steeled myself, knowing what I must do. Before my brain could persuade me to do something else, before I could lose my nerve, I charged. I ran across the room, triggering four more invisible nets as I did. Not having time to get any off, I just rushed forward. I could feel the nets cutting into my skin like fire. Pain lacerated up my arms, my legs, my body, my face. Every nerve within my body seemed to be afire with pain. I bit back a scream. If I had not been used to pain from all the beatings, I probably would have passed out. But seeing how I was used to it, I kept on running forward, trying desperately to ignore the pain, to focus on Johnny. I knew that if I didn't have a focus, I would lose control and succumb to pain. That would leave Johnny to the beating.

So I ran. Ironically, even now, my feet made no sound. The training that had been beaten into me stayed even now. Finally, I reached Johnny. I flung my body on top of his, shielding him from the blows of my parents. He was whimpering in pain, his eyes closed. My heart was breaking for him, for the pain he must have been feeling. He was only five. My parents didn't seem to notice that I was there now, that they were now beating me and not him. I glanced backwards once (my back was towards them) and saw a hungry and malicious flame burning in their eyes and wicked grins on their faces. I felt chilled. Those expressions held no sanity! Only lust for pain. Blows were raining on my back like arrows of flame. I made not a sound, knowing that if I did, it would only worsen. I had learned silence long ago. Silence did not stop my expressions, though. 

I could feel my face contorting with pain. Biting back screams, I concentrated on Johnny. He had opened his eyes and was looking on in horror. He could see what our parents were doing, the expressions on their faces. "Don't look, Johnny!" I managed to gasp out. He obeyed, but unfortunately, his eyes turned to me.

"Ari! They're hurting you! Tell them to stop! I don't want you hurted!" he told me in a whisper. Tears began running down his face. Oh, dear, sweet Johnny! Here he was, with cuts all over him, and he was crying for me! He hadn't cried when they had beaten him, but now he was crying because I was hurting. My heart swelled up with emotion. My little brother!

"Oh, Johnny!" was all I could gasp out. I was shielding him from the blows, but I was beginning to feel their effect. My legs were beginning to give way. The pain kept on coming, no matter how hard I tried to block it out. _No, you must stand! I told myself fiercely. __You're the only thing between them and Johnny. What will happen to him if you fall? But I couldn't fight it anymore. Fog was clouding my brain. _

_Stand! Stand!_

But I was falling, falling….

_Stand! The thought was weaker now, though. I could feel myself starting to black out. __Wow, I'm actually passing out! That's a first. I had never passed out before during these "training sessions."_

_Johnny…_

No, I had to stay awake! I had to protect Johnny!

But I couldn't hold on anymore… I would fall…

Then, the blows stopped, right before I collapsed. They always did. My parents always seemed to know when I couldn't stand anymore. Usually, I hated this for that meant that I could not go to the dark blackness that was waiting for me, the peace. It meant that I had to stay awake to feel each cut, each bruise. But, for once I was grateful. This time, it meant that Johnny would be safe.

My legs gave out in relief. Johnny hugged me tightly. I felt his wet cheek against mine. "You is hurted," he told me, "Ari, I don't want you to be hurted. Make the hurt go away." I nearly wept. Dear, sweet little Johnny. How I loved him! But then he was pulled out of my grasp by my parents. They jerked him roughly away, ignoring his whimpers of pain. 

"Don't hurt him," I gasped out, "Please, I beg of you. Do not hurt him." 

"I hope this had taught you a lesson," my father told me, with no emotion in his voice. "Never disobey us again. Your brother has paid today and so have you. We will not hesitate to repeat this process."

I heard both of them leave, dragging Johnny along. Johnny was still whimpering in pain. _What will happen to him? How will he heal? But I could not answer those questions. __Well, at least there is proof of what happened to him. I thought bitterly. I dragged myself across the floor and into the bathroom, crawling. I felt the pain lacerating through every part of my body. I pulled myself up, holding onto the bathroom counter. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Pale gray eyes stared back at me. My hair was a bit disheveled, but that was the only sign of what had just occurred. _

Just great, I thought bitterly, slumping to the bathroom floor, trying to catch my breath. Even standing up had cost me. Oh, the pain… Surely I would go mad with the pain! It was unbearable. I knew in the morning that I would still be able to go to school, though. I always did. The pain was always dampened in the morning. Never gone, but lessened. I don't know how that happened, but then again, I didn't know how everything stayed invisible either. _Oh Johnny, how I wish you could live in a normal household, grow up as a normal child. Not be burdened with such harsh realties. Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to stop them from spilling, but they did. They splattered on the cold, stone floor of the bathroom. Then they came faster and faster, until I was sobbing my heart out. _

Outside, the stars shone down on the peaceful neighborhood in Massachusetts, unaware that their light shone down upon a home where a girl lay sobbing on a bathroom floor, too much in pain to do anything else…

That had occurred when I was thirteen. Now I was fifteen, a freshman in high school, and Johnny was seven. I never disobeyed or hesitated again. 

I continued up the stairs, finally reaching my room. My room was actually normal, with a bed, closet, drawer, bookshelf, desk, and other essential things. That was only because I had to invite friends over occasionally to give the appearance of a normal, everyday teenager. My parents had ordered me to do keep a normal appearance everywhere. So, at least I had a room and a bed. Glancing at my clock, it read 7:15. No more time to sleep. Sighing, I went into the bathroom and began preparing for school. 

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I'm finally done! That was different from the way I was planning it to be. I was planning to write about school in this chapter cuz I wasn't expecting the memory to be that long, but oh well. School and stuff will be the next chappie! I wrote a really long memory cuz I wanted to establish the character more, to give a deeper look into Aria's past life in order for you to understand her better. I STILL don't think I talked enough about her past, but I don't want to bore y'all to death, so I'll just have to work in details as I go along. I don't think I would be able to stand another chappie just about the past anyways! 

I hope you guys understand Aria a little better now! AS I GO ALONG, YOU'LL SEE THAT I'LL ASK YOU GUYS A LOT OF QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR OPINION SO PLEASE READ ALL MY RAMBLING AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF EACH CHAPTER!!!!!! TODAY, I WANNA KNOW: IS WESTRON THE SAME AS ENGLISH? AND WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE TITLE OF THIS STORY? WHAT WOULD BE A BETTER TITLE? ANY SUGGESTIONS?  **PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!! There was one at the beginning too, about mary-sues. ****SO REVIEW, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS CHAPPIE, AND PLEASE DON'T FLAME!! THANX! Wow, I ramble a lot don't I? sorry  ^_^**

P.S. Italics mean either thoughts (sometimes Aria's) or to emphasize a word.

 I think you can figure out which depending on the text.

                                                                                          **_~Lady of Dreams~_**


	3. Chapter Three: School and Best Friends

**What You See…**

Hey pplz!!! Thanx so much for the reviews! Ok, I know some of you are wondering when Leggy is going to show up and here's my answer. He's going to show up eventually, but I don't want to rush the story too much. Rushing would totally mess up the plot. I've gotta establish the character a little more first before rushing her into middle earth. And in answer to Kelly: don't worry, you're not the only person who's stupid. I know that a mary-sue is someone who's overly perfect and that, yes, Legolas is going to be in this story. But I myself am not very sure what flames are. I think, well I assume, that flames are review that basically say your story sucks. **OK PEOPLE, FOR IGNORANT PEOPLE LIKE ME: WHAT DOES IT MEAN WHEN YOU FLAME A STORY???**

            Well, on with chapter three!!!! ^_^

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**Chapter Three: School and Best Friends**

I glanced at myself in the mirror. After coming back to my room, I had taken a shower, carefully picked out a set of clothes to wear, and done my hair. Hey, being popular meant looking great everyday and wearing "in" clothes. I was wearing a pair of waist-hugging but loose and easy-to-move-in flared jeans with a not-too-low-cut white shirt that had large and flowing sleeves. "Angel" was written on it in baby-blue, script-like letters. I had dressed carefully as not to bump the cloth into any cuts or bruises from last night's "lesson." Weekend training was even tougher than weekday training. My feet were bare and my hair was up in its usual braid. Most people liked to leave their hair down, but I, personally, couldn't stand it. Whenever I let my wavy, almost waist-length silver hair down, it always ended up in my way until I became so frustrated about it that I was ready to cut it off. My friends all said that I should leave it down more because I looked good that way, but I just ignored them. Besides, loose hair would just get in the way of training that came right after school. 

I wouldn't care that much about my looks, but being popular was one of my parents' requirements in school. I had to get straight A's, join in extracurricular activities, and be one of the "popular people." After tucking a wisp of hair back into my tight braid, I was satisfied with my appearance. I grabbed my bookbag and made my way down the stairs into the kitchen. My parents weren't around. I never saw them in the mornings, only during the afternoon training sessions. I grabbed a bowl and a box of Fruit Loops out of the pantry, poured some milk, and promptly began to eat breakfast. The house was still completely silent but for the sound of me crunching fruit loops. The silence unnerved most people who came over, but I was used to it. Finishing breakfast, I checked my watch. 7:40. _Good_, I thought, _just in time to catch the bus. Throwing on my bookbag, I put on my usual pair of soft shoes and headed out, locking the door on my way. I never wore the sandals or flip-flops that so many others did. You can't train with sandals on._

I made my way to the bus stop at a leisurely pace, enjoying the scenery around me. The small town of Northborough where I lived was rather peaceful, or my neighborhood was, at least. Then again, I lived in a pretty rich neighborhood. I reached the stop as the bus was pulling in and walked in. Everything was noisy and disorganized as usual. Some people were silent, staring out the window. Others were happily chattering with their friends. The seniors in the back were pelting the freshmen in the front with bits of paper. I made my way to the middle of the bus, where the popular group of freshmen sat. I greeted my friends and quickly sat down, just missing being hit by a wad of paper. I had felt it coming. I was always on hair-trigger. (~**_Lady of Dreams~_**: Hair trigger is like being really, really sensitive. You notice things before they actually hit you. It comes from having to be alert all the time.) 

Jamming on my headphones, I let the harsh rap music of Eminem wash over me. He was one of my favorite artists. His music comforted me, though it is kind of a strange type of music to listen to for comfort since his songs are so filled with anger. But listening to other people's anger helped calm my own. No one tried to speak to me. By now, people on my bus knew me well enough to know that I never talked in the mornings. Not even the seniors tried to throw paper at me, knowing who my parents were and knowing that I took martial arts with them. I had never had to show my skills for which I was grateful, seeing as how I might seriously hurt someone because of the harsh "lessons" my parents gave me in the afternoons. I closed my eyes. Weariness wrapped me in a blanket, tucking me in. I could feel sleep settling over me and quickly snapped my eyes back open. It would not do to fall asleep and possibly sleepwalk on the bus. No one knew I sleepwalked except for my parents(I'm assuming) and my best friend.

The bus rolled into the parking lot and everyone got out in a jumble. The crisp air of winter fading into spring struck me. I stopped for a minute, just looking at the two-story building of my school. Another day had officially begun. I heaved a sigh and stalked in.

The halls were filled with people. People laughing, people talking, girl whispering about boys, boys bragging about what had happened on his date last night. I made my way to my locker slowly; it was impossible to move fast in this crowd! I waved a hello to some people along the way, not saying anything. I hated Monday mornings. It meant the beginning of another week. Finally reaching locker, I punched in the combination and flipped it open, getting my books together without very much enthusiasm. School was such a bore sometimes.

"Well, someone looks gloomy this morning," a cheerful voice said to my right. I turned, knowing who it was—my best friend, Lillian Monro.

Now, if you thought I was perfect, then she was even perfecter, if there even is such a word. She had shoulder length layered hair that framed her face and was black. I mean like pure black. For those who say there's no such thing as pure black hair, that it was just a dark brown, they are wrong. Amethyst eyes graced a face that had flawless skin and was pale but not too pale, always with a natural blush to the cheeks. She has the perfect figure, though I don't know how cause she eats like a pig and as much as one too. To sum up Lilly in one word—perfect.

"You know, sometimes you're so perfect you disgust me," I grumbled back, slamming my locker shut.

She laughed, a clear musical laugh. She looked perfectly groomed, as usual, wearing a pair of faded jeans with a black shirt saying "Devil" in flaming red letters. On the first day she had arrived at Morris High, everyone's jaw had dropped, literally. Everywhere she had gone, it had been just a procession of silence with jaw-dropping and gaping. Even the girls had stared on at her beauty and felt despair sinking into their hearts, knowing that they had just lost whatever attention they might have received from guys. Even I had felt my jaw go slack, though I had quickly closed my mouth as to not look like a fish. Seeing this, Lilly had seemed very grateful. She had looked very nervous as she walked down the halls, a new transfer student, and everyone had stopped and gaped at her as if she was some display at the museum.

"Well, you're the same, aren't you," she teased.

"Oh, shut up," I snapped back at her. She wasn't offended. She had known me long enough now to know that I was useless on Monday mornings.

I had been one of the first to break the silence that had filled the usually noisy halls. Even the teachers who had come out to see why it was so quiet had reduced to staring with their mouths hanging open. I had welcomed her to our school and offered to show her around. She had accepted, in that ringing, musical voice of hers which just left more people gaping, looking extremely relieved. As if that had been a signal, everyone began rushing towards her. Guys crowded around her asking, even begging for her number. Girls had tried to get close too, to be her friend so they could know her secrets of success. Other girls, though, had huddled into groups, whispering to each other and shooting evil looks at the beautiful stranger that had caught every single guy's attention. I had felt rather sorry for the poor girl. I mean, here she was, on her first day of school in a totally new town, and she was swamped by people. She tried valiantly to make her way out of the crowd, but it was a hopeless case.

So then I, knowing how she felt in this situation since I had gone through it before though at a much, much lesser degree, created a distraction. I made my way through the crowd, whispered a few well-chosen words to a few of the guys crowding the new student and managed to start a brawl all within a minute. As fists flew and curses rent the air, I grabbed the new girl's arm and dragged her out of the mess, making my way to the small pond behind the school which no one except me and a few friends knew about. Since that incident, we had become fast friends. Eventually, the reactions stopped, though people did still stop and stare once in a while. And she was blind to her own beauty! She thought that it was a normal reaction for a new student to receive and ignored anyone who told her otherwise. She seemed to have made friends with almost the whole school by the end of her first week. There was something about her that attracted others like flies to honey. And to top it all of, she just had to be perfect at _every, single thing that she did. You name it, and she could do it. Sometimes it just drove me crazy! And I must admit, there have been a few times where I had been rather jealous, like that time with that really cute senior… Oh well, I won't get into that event. _

On the other hand, Lilly ate tons. I don't know how she eats so much and still keeps her figure! And she seems to have a goal to break every single school rule ever created, constantly getting into trouble. None of the teachers ever seemed to have the heart to suspend her or anything. I always accused her of using the puppy dog eyes on the teachers, but then she would just give me that "What? Me?" look, and I would give up. Of course, guys still threw themselves at her feet, but she had learned to ignore it eventually. After going through a few days of trying to explain to guys why she couldn't go out with them, she had just given up.

"So, are things still stable at your house?" I asked as we made our way to homeroom, greeting people occasionally.

"Not really," she replied, strain beginning to show in her voice. "They're thinking of getting a divorce."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," I said sympathetically, giving her a quick hug.

"It's okay, Aria. There's nothing much I can do about it anyway. They've been leaning towards this direction for quite a while. Josh is doing everything he can to persuade them not to, for us, for me, but I think they have their hearts set on it. Josh is being really sweet these days." She gave me sad little smile, and we walked on in silence. I knew that there weren't any words I could say to make it better. _Better to let her organize her thoughts_, I thought. But my heart ached for her. Normally, she was so cheerful that it annoyed me, but now that she was so down these days, I thought that sadness didn't suit one who was always so happy.

We were birds of a feather. Both of our personal lives held more than people saw. The way we acted in school each day was different from our actual selves, only a mask for other people to look at and enjoy. Lilly's parents had always argued a lot, starting around eighth grade, she told me. They had tried to settle things out to make it work for Lilly and her brother, Josh, but now it seemed that they couldn't keep it up. They had awful arguments at home, Lilly told me, where they would throw things at each other and scream and yell. Not very many people knew about her family troubles. Then again, we were best friends, sharing all secrets. Well, almost all. No one knew about my family, and I hadn't tried to tell. _Who would believe me anyway? I have no evidence, no proof. There were times when I almost spilled the beans to Lilly, but I always held myself in check. She wouldn't believe me, and my parents…they might somehow find out that I had told someone. But excluding my not so little secret, we were the best of friends. Actually, she was my only true friend. I hung out with others, of course, but had never confided in anyone other than her._

We made it to homeroom just as the bell rang. I sat down at my desk. A pair of hands closed over my eyes, and I had to restrain myself not to attack, since that would've been my natural instinct. 

"Guess who?" a deep voice rumbled in my ear.

"Ryan, I know it's you," I replied with a hint of laughter in my voice. The hands vanished, and I turned around to look at my boyfriend, Ryan McCoy. We had been going steady for about two months now. He's the star of the basketball team. He has wavy, deep brown hair and warm brown eyes. He's funny and polite but rather shy at times. I don't trust him enough to confide in him yet. Trust does not come easily for me. 

"You always know," he said, grinning. We smiled at each other. Ryan could be such a sweetie sometimes.

"Oh, please," Lilly told both of us disgustedly, "You guys are making me sick. How can you act so cuddly all the time?"

"You're just jealous," I retorted, knowing that I was wrong, but needing a retort. She snorted. She was currently dating the captain of the football team, Michael Williams, who was totally hot and very sought after, though probably not as much as her. Besides, she never seemed to be jealous of anyone. And it's not like she needed to be. Ryan was staring at her…shirt, which was very low-cut, mind you. I just grinned to myself, knowing what would happen next. It happened rather often, and I was used to it.

"Uh, hello?" Lilly said, "I believe your girlfriend's that way." She turned his head around to face me instead. Ryan blushed beet red and muttered what sounded like an apology before hurrying to his seat. 

"You're evil, Lilly," I told her, trying not to laugh.

"I know," she said simply with a wicked grin in Ryan's direction. We giggled together some more, talked a little about her date the past weekend with Michael before the bell rang. I settled into my seat with a sigh. Another day of school had just begun.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Oh my god. Can you believe the amount of homework Mr. Stein gave us today? I'm gonna be up all night working on this piece of s—" 

"No need to get all worked up over homework, Lilly. Just don't do it. You can probably talk your way out of it tomorrow anyway," I told her. Classes were over, and we were heading to the buses.

"No," Lilly sighed, "I should probably do it. It'll give me an excuse to lock myself in my room and avoid my parents, at least." Her voice became subdued at the end of her sentence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

"No, not yet," she replied, scuffing the ground with her foot, "but thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you." And she gave me a hug all of a sudden.

"Hey, are you gonna get all sentimental on me?" I asked teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, of course not," she said, with a little laugh. "Oh, by the way. Here." She pulled something out of her backpack. It was a copy of _The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. _

"Thank you so much!" I squealed. "I've been looking for a copy of this forever! Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, I was just cleaning out my room yesterday, and I found this under my bed," she replied casually. I could see that what she had told me wasn't true, though. For one thing, it was a brand new copy and if it had been under Lilly's bed… Well, believe me, it wouldn't have looked like this. She didn't like to show her soft side to others, but she was always giving people random presents that they wanted but didn't have the money to get or couldn't find it. She would always deny it, though, if someone accused her of doing so.

My part-obsession with _Lord of the Rings had begun two months ago, after I had gone to one of my friend's sleepover and seen the first movie. I hadn't read the books before, but after seeing the movie, I was eager to read the books. I had gotten my hands on the first book easily enough, but it took me a long time to get through it because I didn't have much time to read at home. After the first book, though, I just couldn't find a copy of __The Two Towers anywhere! So I was kind of behind, but oh well. I would try to find the time to read…somehow. "You have _got_ to go see __The Two Towers with me this weekend," I exclaimed, after carefully packing the book away._

"I'll see if I can," she replied, starting to make her way towards her bus. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Bye!"

            "

Bye!" I waved back, heading toward my own bus. I worked on homework on the bus, though I longed to read _The Two Towers. I resisted the temptation, though and concentrated on homework. After getting off the bus, I walked to the library near my neighborhood and proceeded to finish up my homework. After three hours, I was finally done. I glanced at my watch. 7:19. __Good, not too late, I thought. __Maybe I'll be able to have dinner before eleven today. I walked quickly back towards my house. I stopped in front of it, staring at its five stories and forbidding entrance. I hardened the essence of _me_, my heart, my will, my resolve. I made sure that I was fully alert and that my clothes would not get in the way. Then I stowed my stowed my bookbag in the basket of the pulley that I would use later to pull it up to my room. Finally, I carefully took my weapons from behind a bush at the side of my house. _

Today would be archery training. I took up my bow and arrows, strapping the arrows to my back. I sheathed my sword, hanging it on a belt at my side. Any type of training always ended up in swordwork. I felt for my daggers and small knives which I had hidden in many places. Good, they were all there. _Okay, I'm ready, I thought to myself, __or as ready as I'll ever be. Finally, I walked up to the front door and slowly began to turn the doorknob._

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WOW!!!! I wrote that pretty quick. Only two days since I last updated! Ok, you might be wondering why I wrote so much about her best friend, who I know is mary-sue, but please don't trample me for it Well, for one thing, Aria doesn't make close friends very easily, and Lilly's basically her only true friend. Also, she's gonna play a part in the future. Questions for today: **IS MIRKWOOD A VERY GLOOMY AND DANGEROUS ****FOREST**** OR BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL? Well, thanks for reading and ****PLEASE REVIEW, DON'T FLAME, AND ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!!!! Thanx! ^_^**


	4. Chapter Four: Tomorrow Never Dies

**What You See…**

Hey pplz! Thanx for all the reviews! And thanx for not flaming! Constructive criticism is appreciated, but not flames. But, if you feel you must flame, please give me reason and one that's not because it's a mary-sue. PEOPLE! I AM **PERFECTLY** **AWARE THAT MY CHARACTER IS A MARY-SUE SO YA DON'T NEED TO SHOVE IT IN MY FACE ALL THE TIME!!!!!! I KNOW THAT SHE IS, OKAY? Sorry it took a while to update; I was thinking a lot. Now, messages for some reviewees.**

            theMuse: thank you very much. *tries to bow and curtsy at the same time and falls over* I know how much people just loooooove mary-sues *is hit by tomatoes and various fruits* sorry, I'm kinda in a sarcastic mood right now. Anyways, I know that I have made two mary-sues, and no, she's not an elf, I think. I haven't planned out too much yet, but I don't think I want her to be an elf. What do you think?

            Kelly: Thank you so much for all the support!! Hugs! And I'm sorry it took so long to update. I wasn't on vacation or anything. I was just thinking a lot and planning. Ok, so I admit it, I am kinda lazy. *hangs my head* but I'll try to get better! ^_^ 

            LadyTremere: You have said exactly what I wanted to say!!! It's uncanny! Like, I was literally thinking along the exact same lines! And no, I'm not gonna go to deep into the high school thing. It was just to give a taste of what her normal days are like. Well, thanx for expressing my thoughts! Hugs! Ok, you probably think I'm some kind of phsycho now, but, oh well. I'm a new writer so I'm still kinda insecure about my writing so I'm very grateful for support.

            Winterfox: I appreciate the constructive criticism and the answers to my questions. Yes, I knew I have plot holes, but I'll cover them eventually. Have patience. And I have read _The_ _Valley of Horses_ by Jean M. Auel and it was really good!! I read most of that series, but gave up when I reached _The Shelters of Stone_. I just got kinda tired of it and it was sooooooooo thick!!! In conclusion, did you like my story or not cuz I can't really tell from your review. Sorry if I'm being really stupid. Oh, and cute profile! ^_^

            Hi: a mary-sue is a person who's overly perfect. I could give you a much more detailed description of different types of mary-sues, but it's too late at night right now. If you want to know more, email me.

            Flamerule: you remind me of Winterfox! Yes, I know I have major plot holes, but all will be explained later on. Be patient. Sorry, you don't like the spaces, but I can't proofread without them. Same question for you as for Winterfox: did you like my story? Once again, sorry if I'm being extremely stupid.

            Lilyana: I know it's mary-sue. Things will be explained in the future.

Now, for everyone: I'm sorry if this is dragging, but things will start picking up the pace soon! I can't rush things, though, cuz I'm positive that if I do, it'll turn out horrible. There won't be too much more about her life, though, but I need to set things up for events in the future, so be patient please people? Oh, and in this chapter * * * * * will signify a changing in point of view. And I think I might switch to third person in the next chapter. Or was it first person? I think it's third. Ack! Now I've gotten myself all confused!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for my characters. Everything else belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, that genius! I hope you already knew that.

Now, on with the next chappie! (All those notes took a whole page!)

**Chapter Four: Tomorrow Never Dies**

I paused in turning the doorknob, pausing to listen for even the tiniest sound of movement, which would mean that my parents were lying in wait for me, to ambush me at the beginning of the training course, when I would be least wary. Hearing nothing, I continued to turn the doorknob, as quietly as I could. Finally, I pushed the door open silently, slipping in quickly. I paused again, listening for noise. Today was not a test for speed but to avoid getting wounded. Speed courses usually proceeded much quicker. I held my bow and an arrow ready, knowing that attack would come soon. I slowly made my way down the long entrance hall, carefully avoiding the boards that creaked. 

_            Wait_. There, a flash of movement—

I quickly released an arrow, putting another in place and sending it off within seconds. A dummy, which was used to take place of an actual person, since I can't really shoot real people with arrows, slowly swung back and forth in the middle of the hall, with my two arrows buried deep in it. I had sent my arrows off with much force, having learned that force would be required to stop an actual person. If a real being had been running towards you with, intent on killing you, a weakly-shot arrow might hit that person but would not stop him/her from running on with his/her last ounce of strength and killing you as well. If I had not caught the dummy, it's momentum from swinging downward towards me would have knocked me over. My parents didn't seem to have any trouble about hitting me with sharp objects, though. Attached to the dummy's right arm was a sharp, very real blade. I knew that all the dummies would be "wielding" some kind of weapon. I stopped for a moment to look at my shots. I was certainly all right with bow and arrow, certainly faster than many people I've ever seen. I had learned speed a long time ago. My parents held nothing but contempt for the slow and the weak. Unfortunately, speed did not mean accuracy. One of my arrows had pierced the dummy's "shoulder" and the other its "stomach." 

I sighed inwardly as I yanked out my arrows. _Never waste weapons_, I thought grimly. I knew I would not be supplied with more arrows if I ran out. I really need to practice this. _If only they would just give me targets and let me shoot them! I'm never gonna get better with my accuracy if I don't have some quality time just for target practice! _I thought to myself. Oh well. I moved on. Never linger in one spot for too long, I had been taught. I made it to the stairs after shooting down another dummy that had swung down from the ceiling. It cost me three arrows which I could not take back because it was pulled back upwards right after I shot it. See, being not-so-accurate meant using many arrows. 

Running up the stairs, I dispelled a few more dummies, disentangled myself from a few invisible nets, and fended off some of the close-range obstacles with my sword. My goal was to make it to the training room on the fifth floor. I kept on going, fighting my way through the obstacle course and finally reached the fifth floor. _Yes! I had reached the room. A smile spread across my face for an instant. Then I remembered that there would still be a lot more to come, and it faded. I paused once again, straining my senses, my eyesight, hearing, sense of smell. Nothing. All appeared to be safe. _

Then, in a flash, one last dummy swung down from the ceiling as quick as lightning. I swore and rolled out of the way but too late. The sword stuck to its "arm" pierced my right arm. Hurriedly, I sent off two arrows, effectively "killing" it. I felt warm blood flowing in a little trickle down my arm and felt for the cut, knowing I would not see it. _There._ It was not so deep and did not hurt so much. But then, more came. Dummies suddenly seemed to swing in from every direction. The door to the training room was right behind me, though, so I ran into it instead of trying to defeat all of them, slamming the door after me. Yes! Temporary sanctuary! I had made it! That hadn't taken very long, a bit shorter than usual, in fact. I would be able to eat dinner early! That was wonderf—

_Holy sh—_ I had no time to complete the thought as two arrows came hurtling out of the wall. I threw myself flat on the floor as the two arrows sailed over my head. _Great_, I mentally groaned, _no wonder it didn't take so long today. I should've been expecting this!_ The training room was usually just one very large room, but there were places in the floor, ceiling, and walls where thin, paperboard walls could be set up to create temporary rooms. My parents taught many students every day, seeing as how they are martial arts teachers, though probably not in the same way they "taught" me. 

Today the room was split into I don't know how many rooms, for separate obstacles. The one I was in right now was the, what I like to call, the Let's Use Aria for Target Practice room. My goal was to make it to the door at the far end and escape into another room. Now, that sounds extremely simple, but when you add in the fact that very sharp arrows would be hurtling out towards me from slits in the temporary wall and that I didn't know when they would be coming, it was rather, no, extremely difficult. I had experience, though, and I knew, more or less, how to get through it with only minor injuries. _Well, might as well try to get this over with as fast as possible. There'll be more training after you get through all of this. Hello, wasn't your goal to eat dinner not so late today?_ Heaving a sigh, I carefully strapped all of my weapons tightly to me and made sure they would not get in the way. Then I sprinted.

Arrows came hurtling out of the wall. I analyzed each very quickly. _Up, down, duck, jump_, my brain gave orders to my body smartly and quickly. _To the floor, DUCK!!! I must have looked somewhat like an acrobat, jumping one moment and hurling myself to the floor the next, rolling and tumbling all the while. __Whoa! An arrow grazed my cheek. I kept on doggedly, only about a fourth of the room left to go. I made it to the door without doing myself any further damage. _

I kept on the alert, this time, as I stepped silently through the doorway, and rightly so since an arrow came rushing towards me from the ceiling the moment I went in. I sprang to the side, away from the arrow but making sure I wouldn't spring into a corner. _Never let yourself get cornered. Once again, I went through a similar process of what had happened in the previous room, dodging arrows. The only difference was that in this room, the arrows came out of both walls and the ceiling, making it much more difficult to get to the other side of the room. But I had done this before and therefore was not completely new to it. The first time I had gone through this course, I had nearly gotten myself killed, but years of practice did pay off. _

I quickly prepared my bow and an arrow before stepping inside the next to last room. By now, after I had gone through the first two rooms, I knew what would be in the third. It would be exactly the same as the second one…except for the fact that there would be dummies too which I would have to shoot down. I wish I could say that I was as good in this room as I was in the other ones, but unfortunately, I wasn't. Actually, in my opinion, I suck at it. I would become so busy watching out for arrows, which I considered more important since there was less chance that the swords the dummies would be "holding" would hurt me than the arrows that would be coming out of three sides of the room, that I would forget about the dummies until they bumped into me, which effectively knocked me out of balance. Oh well. Life sucks. So what else is new? 

I went into the room and began to run as fast as I could. Speed would not give enough time for too many unnoticed dummies to knock me over. Arrows came from two sides of the wall and the ceiling. _If only they were coming out of one or two directions,_ I thought wistfully but quickly banished the thought and concentrated on the task ahead of me. _Left, right, DUCK!!! Wait, a dummy! SHOOT IT! HURRY!_ I put three arrows in the thing, halting it in its crash course toward me. 

Unfortunately, another one had crept up behind me without my notice. Now it promptly knocked me over. I fell to the ground with a thud. _Ouch_, I thought but was grateful that its short sword hadn't poked me anywhere. I stood up, then quickly threw myself to the ground again as three arrows whooshed over my head. The rest of the way to the door proceeded in much the same fashion with me shooting some dummies and others knocking me over. But, I still made it through the door without any black-fletched arrows sticking out of me, which was a relief considering that one time…but nevermind about that.

The last room. As expected, one of my parents, today being my mother, was waiting for me, the usual cold expression cemented on her face. I looked quickly at the weapon she was wielding. Regular sword. I would be training in swordwork today. _Good, _I thought grimly, _at least this is a weapon I'm pretty good with_. I knew though, not to discard my other weapons. _One should always attack from afar and try to avoid close combat._ So I threw one of my daggers at her. Yes, I did use real weapons. I suppose my parents felt themselves so much better than me that they could afford to let me use real weapons against them, knowing that they were good enough to block any and all of the weapons I used before they could actually hurt them. She dodged it. I quickly followed that attack with shooting off a few arrows. She dispelled those with a fast, spinning motion of the sword she was carrying, coming closer to me each second. My goal was to try to stop her before there would be of need for close combat. Although I knew that I would not be able to do so, I still tried with every ounce of my will. I sent off more arrows, as fast as I could. She blocked all of them, coming still closer. _Faster, faster_, my brain screamed. I shot faster. Now even my mother had to work a little to block all of the arrows. Still faster I went, until I was afraid I would cut myself at the speed I was going. Then—_an opening.__ I hurled another of my daggers._

So close. 

But not enough. 

Just as the dagger was about to plunge into her body, she moved. All of a sudden, she seemed to be out of that situation, the dagger slicing harmlessly through thin air. She was just suddenly somewhere else. I didn't even see her move. See, now was when I began to have impossible thoughts about my parents being not of this world. For surely, no human being could move so fast that the eye could not see! I resisted those thoughts stubbornly though, feeling I would lose my mind if I dug deeper into them. So I accepted what there was and forced myself to believe that there must be some way to move like that. Besides, I was used to my parents getting out of impossible situations by now.

My mother moved toward me, looking the same as when I first entered the room, not as if she had been almost killed just a few seconds before. She was closing the space between us. I had enough time, though, for maybe a few more arrows. I reached into my quiver to grab one. My hands closed on emptiness. _Damn!_ I thought angrily, hurling my bow and quiver aside and drawing my sword. _I knew I shouldn't have used up so all my arrows! My mother was finally close enough. She raised her sword. The sound of steel upon steel rang. We were now engaged in a series of blows and parries. My mother's strong blows upon my already weak right arm was driving me backwards, against the wall. There was no time to switch to the other arm, though. (Yes, I had been trained in the use of swords with both arms in case one became injured.) I fervently wished that I had my scimitars right now. Scimitars resembled swords, except that they were shorter and had curved edges, and both (since most people who trained in that type of weapon used two) were used at the same time, one for each arm. They were my favorite choice of weapon, and, in my opinion, I was most skilled in their use than in that of any other weapon. _

I remember that the first time my parents had given them to me as a new type of weapon to learn how to use, I had despaired. For how could I ever learn how to use a weapon for each hand that had to work in perfect harmony? It seemed impossible. But I could not deny the grace of the weapon, the spectacularly sharp edge of the blade, the perfect way the hilt seemed to fit within my hand. And it was not too heavy either, unlike some of the other weapons I had used; it was perfect for someone of my build. And eventually, I became skilled in its use. Even my parents had agreed that I had a natural talent with that weapon (which had caused my jaw to drop and me to gape like a fish for the next few minutes—since when did my parents compliment me?), and I practiced hard with it, often facing off the others who took lessons from my parents. Yes, I often sparred with them down at the studio, where my parents taught martial arts. Soon, the scimitars felt like a natural extension of me, and when I practiced with them, ignoring the true reason that I was learning any kind of martial arts, I delighted in the experience. For training in this type of weaponry was an art… a dance. There was something exquisitely graceful and defined about the whirl and swish of the scimitar, the perfect interplay of two flashing weapons, weaving in perfect unison, creating something that was song and dance, life and death—the essence of art. 

But, unsurprisingly, just as I was beginning to become a true master of the weapon, my parents stopped my training in it, as they always did when I became too used to one particular weapon. Sometimes I wondered if they were limiting my skill, if they sought to keep me from reaching my full potential…but that would be foolish, would it not? Why would they train me if they did not want me to become a true master? But that was the way it was with my parents—all questions, no answers. I probably would've just given up then, discontinued my work of scimitars and moved on to the next weapon and lost the highest point that I might've been able to reach, as I always did. But that was when I found a role model in the use of that weapon. This person was definitely the most skilled that I had ever heard anyone to be in the use of scimitars. He knew every trick there was and was undefeated in his craft. This person, or perhaps I should say drow elf, was Drizzt Do'Urden, from R.A. Salvatore's Forgotten Realms. 

Yes, it is very strange. For how could a character in a book be a role model? But to those who have a large imagination, as I do (sometimes too overactive), it was easy to imagine him real and existing. Through descriptions in the books, I could vividly picture each cut and sweep of his weapon, each perfectly exacted maneuver. He was the master, the epitome of skill in the use of scimitars. And so I had my inspiration to go on. I practiced in secret, honing each thrust and swipe to perfection, creating drills and maneuvers of my own, always with a few battered library books next to me, those which were my guides. That was when I was fourteen… a time when I lived half in a fantasy world and half in reality, a strange experience. I did not know what drove me to do this. I could have simply given up the craft the many times when I failed to perfect something I had been working on for days. Perhaps it was just the need to feel that I was good at something in this life, something that I would choose to be good at of my own will, not that of my parents. And so I came to love the scimitars, not for their ability to kill or slaughter, but for their eternal, mesmerizing song and dance. And I hoped that one day, I would be as good as Drizzt Do'Urden, fictional character or not, that one day I might be described by someone in the same way. Then I'll know that I truly achieved my goal. 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I ran out of range for a little while, switching my sword to the other hand, which was not injured. My mother came at me again. This time, I pushed her back. I kept on pushing until this time, it was she who was pressed against the wall. For a moment I had hopes of winning this duel, but they were dashed when my father entered the scene, bearing his heavy broadsword. Now I was fighting off both of them. More than ever, I wish I had my scimitars. But just because I wished it did not mean I would get it. I tried to fend both of them off as best as I could, going on the defensive. I knew I was being backed into the wall, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

My parents, finally overwhelmed me, though, and the training session resulted in the usual daily beating. My father's unemotional voice drifted over me as they left, "Tomorrow's training session shall be delayed to seven thirty." I heard their footsteps going down the stairs. I dragged myself into a sitting position, wincing. For the most part, my body had become used to the pain…but it was still painful. I stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the hot water soothe my wounds. Coming out around half an hour later, I checked the clock. 11:13. I sighed. So I didn't make my goal to eat before eleven. Oh well, close enough. 

I tramped down the flights of stairs and into the kitchen, dressed in a soft and airy robe, still wincing every now and then. Flipping on the TV, I popped a pizza into the microwave and began to heat it. I only ate microwavable food at home. You_ don't want a taste of my cooking skills. The last time I had tried to actually cook something for dinner, I had caused the fire alarm to go off and had to use the fire extinguisher on the what-had-been eggs. Since then, I only heated things in the microwave. As the food heated, I thought about what my parents had said. _"Tomorrow's training session shall be delayed to ___seven thirty__." I had known that already, of course. Every year, on the exact same day, training would be delayed. I assumed that that was the one day that my parents actually went somewhere. Well, tomorrow it would be my day to escape._

I don't know why the idea had never occurred to me before. I could've tried to escape before. Me and my stupidity. Well, tomorrow I _would_ escape, or try to anyway. I had a plan…sort-of. I would come home from school as quickly as possible, without doing homework first and find Johnny. I would pack some of his clothes, and then we would leave. I didn't know where we would go, but it would be as far away from here as possible. It sounded so simple. I just hoped that my parents would truly be gone. All of my prized possessions were packed and ready to go. _Tomorrow_, I thought, the light of hope finally reaching my eyes, _we're gonna leave tomorrow! _

* * * * * **Legolas's** P.O.V. *** * * * ***

            I released one last arrow, killing off the last orc of that group. Sighing, I surveyed the scene before me. All of those who had come on this orc hunt were cleaning their weapons. Orc hunting. I gladly helped to protect Mirkwood's borders but after seven consecutive days of hunting orcs, I was beginning to grow quite weary of the task.

"Why the gloomy look, Legolas? We killed off that band of orcs quite effectively, and no one was injured. One would think that you would be glad of that," Aragorn spoke, having come to stand beside me.

"I am glad," I replied, still looking at those who had accompanied me cleaning their weapons.

"Really?" he said. I turned to look at him. His arms were crossed and the expression on his face clearly told me he didn't believe a word I'd said.

I smiled a little, saying, "Yes, really. I am deeply sorry, though, Aragorn, that you should need to accompany us on this orc hunt while you are here, visiting Mirkwood with Lord Elrond and his kin. You should be enjoying the city and the palace, not hunting orcs!"

"Legolas, my friend," he replied, "I do not mind in the least. Besides, even this is better than being dress-up model of those little sisters of yours! If you'll forgive me for saying so, they are truly worse than a band of orcs!" 

I laughed. "I forgive you. They can be quite a handful, those two!" We were now making our way towards our mounts, as were the rest of those that had come. My thoughts were cheered now as I thought about my two little twin sisters, Elaviel and Cerricwyn. They were only babes right now, at the age of seven, and their favorite activity these days was to play their favorite game, dress-up, with Aragorn. They were fascinated by the man, so different was he from the usual Elven nursemaids. He was also enchanted by them, often giving them treats and telling comical tales, though he didn't fancy their game dress-up very much.

"You're their best friend now, you know," I informed him as we began the ride home, "They won't settle for anyone to play with but you."

"I'm doomed!" he exclaimed theatrically, laughing. Lord Elrond, his daughter Arwen, his two sons, Elledan and Elrohir, a few more members of his household, and a group of skilled archers for protection had come to visit Mirkwood to further negotiations between the two places. Aragorn, as Lord Elrond's adopted son, had come along as well. They had been here for a while, and Aragorn and I had become fast friends, though he was a great deal younger than me. But he was a good friend and a noble man, in fact, the only Man to travel to Mirkwood for quite some time, and my sisters adored him, soon believing that all in the race of Men must be as "nice as our friend Esty." (They found the name Aragorn both too long and too hard to come up with nicknames for; they came up with nicknames for everyone. Instead, they preferred calling him different versions of Estel.) That was quite a good thing in the light of negotiations but not as good in real life. "Rather a handful" was not exactly an accurate description of Elaviel and Cerricwyn. "Crazy" or "little terrors" might be a more descriptive. They terrified most of the nursemaids assigned to them. A few had even quit, declaring that royal family or not, those two "monsters" were unmanageable. But, practically everyone who knew them loved those two, excluding any nursemaids. Identical twins with blonde hair and large, blue eyes, they were hard to resist. My whole family—Father, my eldest brother Calith, my elder brother Tándir, our sister Norith, who was older than all of us and ever our undisputed leader, and I—adored them and, I have to admit, spoiled them a bit.

Another thought that cheered me was the thought of the festival we would be having in a few more weeks. There would be competitions in swordwork, archery, etc. but also in enjoyable events such as dancing, singing, etc. After each separate day's competition, there would be a feast with much good food, wine, and entertainment. I was looking forward to the festival very much. 

It was nightfall by the time we reached the city. Our mounts were taken away, and we strolled inside, everyone eagerly looking forward to food and a hot bath. I was in much better spirits now that I was back in the city of my people, within the palace's beauty and light. For now, I could relax for a while. A messenger came up to me as we were heading toward the dining hall. I halted.

"Prince Legolas?" the messenger inquired.

"Yes," I replied with a sinking heart, suspecting what he would tell me. So far, each day had been like this.

"Another band of orcs has been spotted on the border. Your father has informed me to tell you that if you're still up to it, there shall be more orc hunting tomorrow. He bids you visit him in his study for details." The messenger then bowed and proceeded on his way. 

I sighed, having been expecting the message yet still unhappy about it. I would, of course, be up to it. I did not want to disappoint my father. "Well, my friend," I spoke gloomily to Aragorn as we continued on our way to the dining hall, "Tomorrow, we hunt more orc."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            "She is improving greatly. She almost beat you today. If I had not shown up, she might have! We cannot continue like this; she _will_ grow stronger than us!"

"But we cannot stop it. They will not allow us, and we cannot completely banish them or else we will die as well."

"There is no way we may continue like this, teaching her our skills, the skills we have never taught any before. She is growing more and more skilled. The light of determination is in her eyes. She is no longer a child! Soon enough, she shall rebel."

"No, she shan't. We have her brother."

"But what will she do when she learns of…?"

"She shall never learn of it."

"What about escape? Will she not try to escape with him tomorrow?"

"She will not. She is too weak, too pitiful, too…mortal. Besides, she does not know where he is, and she will not leave without him."

"She will if she finds out."

"Perhaps she will not, even if she does find out. Her love for him is great. She will not do so unless it is the last choice."

"But even if she does not try to escape, there is still the matter of teaching her our arts. We may try to hold back as much as we can, but by and by, they will force us to pit our entire strength against her. Then she will learn; she will become better."

"She still has a long way to go before that will come to pass."

"She is growing very skilled in the use of the double swords."

"Then we must not train her in it for a very long time. There are many other things to train her in. We can put it off for at least a year. By that time, she will have forgotten her old skills and have to relearn them."

"We cannot let her grow too powerful!"

"We won't. She doesn't have it, remember? She cannot stop us."

"This would've been so much easier if only…"

"Yes, I know. But only one would do, you know that. Only the one."

"I still do not think this is wise."

"We shall ask the Council tomorrow. They shall give us solid advice. If you will not heed me, you should at least heed them, the wisest."

"But not for long. We will grow in power, when all is ready."

"When all is ready… For now, just wait for tomorrow, for the Council."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            Tomorrow. Just one more day, and I would weave my spell. I had gathered all the components necessary and was completely ready. My hand trembled in anticipation. I had grown too close to them, to close. I must leave now before he comes after me. Before he once again destroys all that I have. I must go. I must leave them, and never think about them again!

But I could feel my heart quavering. How desperately I wanted to stay! To stay with everyone I knew and loved… But I couldn't. I couldn't even let them in on the biggest secret in my life, my magic. My magic _was_ my life. If only people here used magic. Then I would not have to struggle so to keep my secret. I looked at the spell I had written, re-reading it for the hundredth time. Everything had to be perfect. No, there were no flaws or errors. My spell was perfect. I then checked the angles of my window, making sure the moonlight would stream through, hitting the small, circular desk I had prepared. In the middle of that table I would weave my spell, gather the threads of magic to me.

Tomorrow would be _Halalia_, the day when seven moons of seven different worlds on seven different planes would meet. They would form an alignment, allowing powerful magic to be completed. In most places it occurred once a millennia, or once in every ten millennia. I was astonished at how often it occurred on this planet, Earth. It occurred once a year, once every 365 days. Then would the time and space configurations of seven planets be in alignment, slow or quicken to match each other. It was indeed a very amazing phenomenon. 

_If they knew what I am going to do tomorrow, they would stop me,_ I thought sadly, _but they're not here_. They would say that fate never intended for things like this to happen, that I was performing forbidden magic. They would say that no one was supposed to use or have such power, that even though I did, it did not mean that I should use it in such a way. They would say that fate would punish me for it. _Fate! My thoughts ran bitter, like wine made from the skin of an orange peel, __Since_ when has fate ever heeded what I wanted? Since when has fate ever stopped punishing me? Since when has fate ever paid attention to the many lives and families it destroyed?_ No, fate would forever be my enemy. Too much blood had been spilled, too many tears shed for forgiveness. _My heart has become cold in hatred._ I realized with some surprise. I now long for revenge; this hate eats away at my blood, burning me in many more ways than a fire ever could. _You should be ashamed of yourself,_ I chastised myself, _you always stopped people from thinking along those lines, and now you're doing so yourself? What has happened to you? What would they think?__

_I will never know what they would think because he has robbed me of that chance! Fate has taken them all from me! I will never again see them! Fate and his accomplice are murderers and thieves. They cannot every give back what they took!_ I argued against my conscience with icy fire burning in my veins. I felt tears prick my eyes and angrily wiped them away. Tears would not help; they never did.

I regained control over myself once more, separating myself from my mind. Now everything was in a cold perspective, like snow on a winter's eve. I knew what I would do, and I would not be stopped in doing it. I _would_ work this magic, and no one would stop me. _After all, who can?_ I thought sadly, _There__ is no one left._

_No one left…_

How bleak it sounded. I caught myself right before I began stumbling down the road of self-pity. That never helped either. I hardened my resolve. _Tomorrow…_ the thought lingered in my mind like the aroma of some delicious food. Tomorrow, it would all end…or all begin again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

WOW!!! Longness!!! I'm on my tenth page! This was a hard chapter! For some reason, I could not seem to find the right way to portray Legolas. And I had such a hard time finding ok names for his siblings! Hope I did all right! And I couldn't resist putting dear old Drizzt in there…that was a revision, for anyone who read this before I changed it. I finally figured out what the double swords were formally called when I began reading Forgotten Realms…and I couldn't resist putting Drizzit in there as her role model! He's so cool even though he's only a fictional character, and from the way Salvatore describes him, he does sound like he's the best with the scimitars. But to let everyone know, it was not Forgotten Realms that inspired me to have the scimitars be Aria's chosen weapon. I came up with that before I had ever even heard of Forgotten Realms! Hell, I just figure out that two blades, not too long, not too short, were called scimitars! So don't accuse me of copying or anything.

 Anyways, thank you all soooooooo much for answering my questions. I am a rather ignorant person, but I like to have my facts straight before I write something. Now, I don't know how many sibling Legolas has, so I just made them up. I was doing some research and it said that there was never any record of how many children Thranduil had or of his wife or anything, so I'm just gonna make them up! Please tell me if I'm wrong, however. Well, questions now: **IF AN AUTHOR IS NOT LISTED ON FANFICTION. NET, CAN YOU STILL BORROW SOME OF THEIR STUFF? FOR EXAMPLE, IF IN A BOOK AN AUTHOR HAS A SONG OR POEM THAT YOU WANT TO INCLUDE IN YOUR STORY, CAN YOU DO SO AS LONG AS YOU GIVE THEM THE CREDIT? Wow, that was a lengthy question, but I didn't know how to phrase it. Also, **DO I HAVE TO SAY A DISCLAIMER AT THE BEGINNING OF EVERY CHAPTER? AND, DOES A/N MEAN AUTHOR'S NOTE? **Thanx for the patience, people, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!  Hope you liked this chappie cuz it took me a while.**

                                                                                                                                    _                  **~Lady of Dreams~**_

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	5. Chapter Five: If I Could Fall Into the S...

**What You See…**

            Thanx for the reviews people, and for answering my questions!

            Disclaimer: Don't own LOTR.

**Chapter Five: If I Could Fall Into the Sky, Do You Think Time Would Pass My By?**

            The day passed much as usual. Get up, go to school. Sit through classes and pretend I'm paying attention. Pretend that this wasn't my last day in this school, this town, this state, for I had decided that I would leave Massachusetts. Pretend that I wasn't going to escape from my abusive parents today. See? Normal as you can get.

To tell you the truth, I felt rather frustrated throughout the day. I had considered staying home for the whole day but had decided against since I couldn't be sure that my parents would be gone the whole day. I think Lilly suspects that something is up. The rest of my friends continued on gossiping about who was so hot at school and the latest fashions, but I think she noticed. I was rather quiet today, or more so than usual. She questioned me on whether something was wrong or not, and concern was etched into her voice. For a moment I had a wild thought just to spill the beans, to tell her everything. I came back to the real world quickly, smiling and saying that I had just been up late working on homework. She had given me a penetrating glance but had then fallen silent, not questioning me further. But still, I had the distinct impression that she did not believe me. I pushed the thought out of my mind, though, and continued with my day. 

I had felt guilty, though, afterwards. After all, I was going to leave tonight, and Lilly was my best friend. Surely she deserved better! She would never know what had happened to me. Then I remembered Ryan, and my guilt increased. He was such a sweet boyfriend! It would never work out, though, for deep in my heart, I knew that he was not the one I loved. I cared deeply for him, of course, but I did not _love him. These may seem foolish words. For how can one know, you might ask, how can one know love until they had let the relationship wax and wane as it willed? But I knew. No feelings stirred in my heart when I looked upon the face of Ryan except friendship._

Still, guilt plagued me. I realized that even in this life that seemed so cruel, I did have friends, and I was grateful for it. As I walked toward the buses after waving a goodbye to Lilly, my resolution wavered. Did I truly want to leave this town, where I had grown up, spent my entire life? Did I truly want to leave this school, these friends, this life? Perhaps I could just wait it out, wait until Johnny was eighteen and then bear him away. For a moment, that solution called to me, seemed so much simpler. It was like being presented with two types of desert; would one rather prefer chocolate cheesecake or roasted beetles? Then I remembered all that I had gone through, the nights of tears, the evenings of pain, never having a moment's peace, even in my dreams. I hardened my resolve. Roasted beetles might not sound very appetizing, but it was still edible, and it would not make one gain weight, as chocolate cheesecake might. It would not have the same consequences.

            "Hey, move it, girlie!" a loud voice called from behind me. I felt a hand shove me toward the stairs of the bus. I had been blocking the way as I stood in thought. I caught myself before falling face forward on the stairs and turned around furiously. The mixed emotions in my heart reached the surface in the form of blind anger.

            I glared at the senior who had pushed me. My famous "death glare," some called it, especially reserved for juniors and seniors who bullied freshmen. They had no right. He took a step backward, seemingly surprised that I had turned to face him, me, a freshman. _He must be new, my brain coldly calculated, __since most everyone around here never messes with me. My reputation as the popular girl with silver hair with the kick-butt martial arts parents had traveled around the school quite rapidly when I had first arrived._

            "Don't mess with me," I hissed at him in a deadly tone of voice that scared most people. Lilly had once accused me of scaring the people at McDonalds when I had gotten into an argument with the cashier. Well, he was pissing me off… Anyways, back to the point, I had enough pressure on me about what I was going to do this afternoon without him adding to me. _Stupid seniors.__ Why can't they mind their own business, I thought rather angrily. _

            "What did you say, little girl? Why don't you just get out of the way and stop trying to act like you're brave? Go on, now. Run home to you mommy," he said in a superior tone of voice, putting his hand to my shoulder and beginning to turn me around. A crowd had gathered by now, waiting to get on the bus but also watching what was conspiring with interest. At the senior's words, whispers had broken throughout. I could hear a few of them.

            "What's he doing?"

            "Is he crazy?"

            "Doesn't he know who her parents are?"

            "She's gonna kick his ass!"

            "No, she isn't. She probably doesn't even know martial arts at all. I mean, who knows whether her parents teach her? She's probably pretending to be all that."

            "Maybe you're right."

            I forced myself not to punch this guy in the face. Containing my anger, I said coldly, "Let go of me."

            "Why should I? Are you gonna make me, little girl?" he replied, smirking, his hand still grasping my shoulder.

            I snapped. My carefully contained rage broke loose like a dam, letting the torrents of anger flow out like an incontrollable river. He had now insulted me twice. One thing I could not stand were a sexist guys who believed that men were better than women, were stronger and braver, and this guy was definitely leaning in that direction. Another thing I couldn't stand was people making fun of me because of my height. True, I was rather short but not enough to look like a "little girl" as he had named me. Quick as lightning, but still acutely aware of the fact that the bus driver was behind me, I delivered a smart chop to the arm that was clasping my shoulder. It dropped immediately, with him gasping in pain. Then, in a fashion that made him look like he tripped, I kicked his legs out from underneath him, causing him to fall flat on his back. I could hear the words of "What's goin' on out there?" from the bus driver. 

I dragged him upright, bringing his pain-filled face very close to mine. "Never mess with me again," I spoke in a whisper, punctuating each word with a small shake. With that, I stalked onto the bus. There were cheers from the crowd, but I ignored them. I sat down and moodily gazed out of the window. Now that the moment was through, I was mentally berating myself for losing my temper. _I should've kept a check on my emotions, I thought, __emotion will only get in my way in the long run and that little show of temper did nobody any good! As the bus started on the way to my neighborhood, many people congratulated me, and I pointedly ignored them. My arms were now a little tired. Shaking that senior had not been an easy task considering that he was much bigger and heavier than me! __Stupid! I continued berating myself, __Now__ you've just wasted precious energy and effort that you might have need to use during your escape! How dumb can you get? And you should know by now not to lose your temper!_

The bus rolled to a stop near my house, and I got off, still reprimanding myself. This time, I quickly made my way towards my house. Before going in, though, I gathered my weapons. _I might need them if we run into any trouble, I thought grimly. I had never killed anyone before in my entire life, but if I was forced to in this escape, then I would not hesitate to do so. Then I quickly rushed into the house. I paused for a second, listening for sound, for any hint that my parents might be at home. Nothing. __Then again, they were always good at being silent. They might still be here. This is foolishness! What if they catch you? These thoughts came unbidden to my mind, and I pushed them away hurriedly before they could put even more doubt in my heart._

I threw down my school backpack and rushed to my room, grabbing the pack that I had laid out for myself. Grabbing another, empty pack, I checked my watch. 3:27. Good, I still had time. I then began my search. I went to my parents' bedroom first, looking for Johnny or maybe a hidden door. I found neither. From there, I went back to the first floor and began combing the place. Even I had not been to all the places of my five-story house. For a while the search seemed fruitless. I had found nothing on the first, second, and third floors. I checked my watch again. 4:00. I had to hurry.

Finally, on the fourth floor, I found him. I had been searching a room that looked like all the rest. I had been just about to go back out after finding nothing when my hand felt something as I was about to flip off the light switch. It was like a little button. I pressed it, and to my astonishment, the entire left wall of the room slid open! And there was Johnny, sleeping peacefully, his child's face smooth and calm, his chest rising evenly. He looked so innocent then that my eyes filled with tears. I brushed them away quickly and went to wake up Johnny. He woke slowly and let out an exclamation of "Ari!" when he saw me accompanied by a hug. I hugged him back for a while before explaining to him that we were leaving. As I explained, I went around the room and packed his things. It was a rather good room, with toys and everything a child could want. I was rather surprised at this and wondered about it but ignored the question for now. 

As I finished packing and explaining, I looked over to Johnny, who was staring at me with wide, guileless, blue eyes. My heart felt warmer. "Come, Johnny," I said, "We must hurry if we are to escape today." And he came, without asking any questions, once more the same, undying trust. We left the room.

*** * * * * * * Meanwhile… * * * * * * * * * * * **

            I lock my bedroom door and cast a silencing spell over the threshold, ensuring that no one would hear a sound. All is prepared; all is ready. I begin the ritual, starting with the placing of the crystals. Five crystals, pure and shining, I place in the center of the room. I clap my hands once, speaking a sharp word of command, and they begin to glow. White, incandescent lines of power form between the crystals, creating _Pishruuk, the Star of Light. I move to the center of that star, clutching only the sheet of paper upon which I have written my spell. Of course, I have memorized it, but I will not be leaving anything to risk in this operation. Creating a portal is very complicated business. Now, to call upon the seven colors, the seven threads of power._

I speak:

"Red- Blood Saver, Blood Letter—Come to me! I command it."

_Lisele-ut___

A glowing red strand of power materializes in my right hand. It feels of red hot iron, festivities on the air, the warmth of fresh blood, all at once. Its color of red swirls, sometimes light, sometimes dark, sometimes the color of blood, sometimes that of an apple. I continue.

"Orange- Fire Starter, Fire Quencher—Come to me! I command it."

_Frith__-re_

An orange strand comes to me, swirling in color as the first strand. It feels like the warmth of flames, the juice of an orange.

"Yellow- Light Bringer, Light Queller—Come to me! I command it."

_Merte__-mi_

Yellow, like the shining of the sun, the refreshing taste of butter, caresses my hand, also changing.

"Green- Grass Hider, Glade Scryer—Come to me! I command it."

_Kurh-fa___

The lushness of green grass, the gentle feel of soft wind among tall trees, the scent of evergreen. Green is in my hand. The strands of power squirm, wanting to be set loose. I hurry on, not wanting them to break out of control.

"Blue- Cloud Chaser, Cloud Caller—Come to me! I command it."

_Brige__-sol_

Blue comes as the softness of puffy clouds, the rushing of ocean waves, the eternal encompassing of the sky.

"Indigo- Night Stayer, Night Summoner—Come to me! I command it."

_Luasa-ela___

I feel the stars of night, the velvety blackness of the world, come to my palm. _Only one last strand to go, I think in relief. It is becoming quite a task to manage all of this power. They work against me, trying to break free, but I clamp my will tightly on them, forcing them to stay calm, quivering the center of my hand. The last strand will be the most important, signifying my journey to a new world._

"Violet- The New Beginning—Come to me! I command it."

_Grei-ti___

Violet, the cry of a baby, the cloaks of royalty, the essence of starting over, materializes to be with its brothers and sisters. Knowing I have not much time, I take the strands and begin to weave, chanting my spell at the same time.

            Time, it is a tapestry

Threads that weave it number three

  These be know, from first to last,

     Future, Present, and the Past

   Present, Future, weft-thread be

         Fleeting in inconstancy

      Yet the colors they do add

  Serve to make the heart be glad

   Past, the warp-thread that it be

       Sets the path of history

    Every moment 'neath the sun

       Every battle, lost or won

   Finds its place within the lee

   Of Time's enduring memory

  Fate, the weaver of the bands

        Hold these threads within Her hands

     Plaits a rope that in its use

 Can be a lifeline, net—or noose.

And then for the last part:

What I once lost

            I now shall gain

                        Away from anger

                                    Far from pain

That now we part

            In this dark hour

                        Storms of grief

                                    And wells of power

Stir the mysts

            Of Sand and Time

                        Bring back to me

                                    What once was mine

Let me now

            My emotions hide

                        Begin again

                                    These powers reside!

Rather bad poetry for my part, but writing spells was never my strong suit. It was hers. I swallow, closing my eyes for the briefest of seconds, pushing away the memories that I can not yet face, pushing back reason. For reason will stop me from this, stop me from opening a portal. I open my eyes. The spell seems to be working. The threads of power now look like a tapestry of sorts. 

Yes, the portal, the forbidden portal, is opening.

            Now, it stands before me, in the Star of Light, a molten mixture of colors dazzling the eyes and ensnaring the soul if the wielder is not careful. But I am. My spell had worked perfectly. I heave my pack upon my shoulders, taking one last look around my room, at the pictures of my friends and family on this world. A bitter half-smile forms on my lips. It is good that I am leaving now. I will spare them the sorrow of heartbreak. And I will spare myself as well. I lift my foot to step through. The whirling halo of light blinds my eyes for an instant. Then, suddenly—

            Nothing.

            My foot steps through hair. I feel my face freeze; my heart seems to stop beating. _What has gone wrong? my mind is frantically screaming, __What has happened? I did everything correctly, all the spell components, everything. I begin to mentally review everything I had done. Everything had been correct. __But then what had gone wrong? __Why had it disappeared? Fear constricts my heart. Building a time portal is forbidden. Having one out on the loose, with no control is even worse. It can probably destroy this entire world, I realize with a sinking heart. __What had gone wrong though?_

            And then it hits me, shocking my mind. I had been missing one spell component, just one, but it made all the difference. 

            I had not given the portal a location. I had not told it where to appear when I summoned it, whether to stay in front of me or to move to Africa or anything else. 

            My knees collapse from underneath me. The spell has left me weak, I think vaguely. My emotions begin to overload my weary mind, and I do the only thing I can think of right now. Tears splatter the floor.

            I weep.

*** * * * * * * * * Also meanwhile… * * * * * * * * **

"Once more we are gathered on _Halalia, day of power, the day when seven moons of seven different worlds form an alignment. How has everything been going? Are our plans proceeding as expected?"_

"My lord, everything is going quite well."

"How so? Details. For only once a year may we meet or else the powers of good may track us down and destroy us forever."

"The training is progressing quite as expected, my lord. The One is still unused to the rigors of training but is beginning to adjust."

"Good. Will the Chosen be ready soon?"

"Not yet, my lord. It will still take a few years before the process is complete."

"Will there be any interferences?"

"No, my lord. That is, except for the Other. But the Other has different issues."

"The Other….Still, it would be a good idea to watch, make sure the Other does not get any notions or ideas. Watch the Other carefully. Have you found the Three Sacrifices yet?

"Nay, my lord. But surely, that is not so important? After all, they will not be needed until the end?"

"Ah, never think that way. Begin scouting for the Three Sacrifices. Without them, our plan is nothing."

"Yes, my lord, as you command."

"Now, on to more recent matters. Shavya, tell me, what have your visions been of lately? Do you foresee anything that might be of importance? Speak up, seeress."

"My lord, the—"

They all felt it; every single member attending the Council felt it. Power. Vibrations hummed through the air, louder and louder, thrumming with power. The sheer force of it sent many members to their knees, clutching their heads in pain. Such power! It was unheard of!

"Shields!"

They all heard the lord, his voice penetrating through the waves of pure force and reacted to it, instantly forming mental shields. Even then, though, they could still hear the power buzzing around them, though lesser now. 

"What?"

"What's happening?"

"Such power!"

"What group is doing this?"

"Have they discovered us?"

"Are they coming for us?"

Then, a voice boomed out over the confusion, "Silence!" The might of their lord's voice sent them all into an immediate silence after the initial outbreak of panic. 

"Khunam, what is this? What can you tell of this?" the lord asked, beckoning to one of the black-robed figures. But just as the figure was about to speak, they all knew what it was. And in that moment, dread and awe seeped into their hearts, eating away like carbonic acid does to limestone. The same thoughts raced through everyone's mind. _A portal! A portal through Time and Space! Who would dare?! It had long ago been forbidden by all orders, good, evil, and neutral, for building and entering a portal could bring about the destruction of the world, or completely ruin the run of events. Not even those highest among their order and most powerful did not dare create a portal. Not that they could, for creating a portal took much strength and power and could not be done by one person alone. There had to be a group of skilled magi, at least ten, in order to create one, and even then, it could go awry. _

The silence that reigned while these thoughts were speeding through everyone's mind soon became ominous. Finally, someone gasped out, "Who? Where? Did anything go wrong?" At this break in the silence, everyone seemed to regain their senses.

"Khunam," the lord commanded, "find out who it is."

"Yes, my lord," a figure robed in black answered. A look of intense concentration came over his face as he searched with his mind for the portal and who had created it. Then, after a few seconds upon which tension mounted, his face turned a ghastly shade of white, and he collapsed on the ground. Immediately, everyone flocked around him, helping him up, giving him a sip of water. These actions were not done out of kindness, though, but out of the need for news, for what was happening.

When Khunam was finally revived enough to speak, he said in a tone filled with awe and fear, "One person! One person built the time portal!" At this, whispers spread like wildfire through the Council. The lord, though his face was now a shade paler, raised a hand, and silence fell over all again.

"Continue," the lord said in a neutral tone of voice.

"I cannot tell whether the person is a man or a woman…or some other species. But whoever it is, they contain power like I have never felt and mindshields that are impossible to break through! Yes, so strong were the shields that they threw my mind back when I tried to broach them!" Once again, a few mutterings before the man continued, sipping water.

"As for the portal," he once more spoke, a tremble in his voice, "it is near the place in which you dwell!" He turned towards two other black-robed figures. They exchanged sharp glances.

The lord's face had become even paler, though he was still quite composed, his pale face the only sign of nervousness. "Go," he commanded, his voice tinged with what might have been—fear? "Go, quickly. Make sure nothing happens to ruin our plans! Go!!!"

With that, the two figures rushed off into the gathering darkness.

*** * * * * * * * * * Aria * * * * * * * * * ***

            We went down the stairs. I was holding Johnny's hand in mine, and it gave me a bit of warmth. My senses were at their peak right now. I was aware of every tiny movement, every sound, every smell. I jumped at the creak of a stair. Johnny looked up at me in surprise. "Where are we going, Ari?" he asked me, his blue eyes wide.

            "Somewhere far away," I replied, "Come along now, we have to hurry." Johnny became quiet again, trusting me. I was grateful for the silence, not knowing how to answer these questions right now. My nerves were stretched out so much that I was afraid that I'd snap and go insane. We rushed down more flights of stairs, still alert. Then, there was the front door. My heart seemed to rise in relief. Freedom! Only down the entrance hall now. I was elated. Victory! I wanted to shout out in joy. But suddenly, just as we neared the door, my parents came bursting in through it.

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **

No… where has it gone? 

My tears still fall upon the floor. Helplessness rages inside of me. I wipe away my tears as they flow. No, I think, I must concentrate. I must try to find it! 

I reach out my senses.

*** * * * * * * * * Aria * * * * * * * * * ***

            My father came first, dressed in a what looked like a black bathrobe. In instant reflex, I hurled one of my daggers. But this was not in practice. This was real, deadly earnest. It plunged into his chest, and he staggered. With a look of surprise, he crumpled to the ground. 

            For a moment, I felt stunned, shocked, even sickened. I had just killed someone, my own father, in fact. But I had no time to brood for my mother came at me, dressed in a similar fashion, with a deadly look in her eyes, her sword at the ready. She always seemed to have her sword with her. I remembered Johnny and quickly backed away, looking for an exit. My mother was blocking the front door, and there was no back way. I knew I could not beat my mother in weaponry. So I took the only way there was left. Up. 

            "Run, Johnny!" I screamed, "Run upstairs!" He looked confused for a moment. He had seen the dagger hurtle into my father's body, but he did not understand it, did not understand death. He glanced at me for a second and then obeyed, sprinting up the stairs as fast as his weak legs could carry him. I ran after, hurrying him along and keeping a watch on my mother. She dashed after us, her eyes full of murder. I shuddered. Those eyes were not sane, not rational, not…human!

            I blessed whatever gods there were that she did not have bow and arrow or throwing knives. If so, we would have been caught for sure! We kept on running. I could hear Johnny's breath come out in wheezes and gasps. I knew he could not last much longer. I still breathed easily from all the running that I did at school and at home. I did not know what we would do when we reached the fifth floor. Then I remembered. 

The pulley in my room that I used to pull my bookbag up with! We could escape from there! The pulley had strong ropes, and I knew that they would not break. I guided Johnny in the direction of my room as we reached the fifth floor. By now, he had slowed considerably. I could not hear my mother behind us, but then again, she stepped silently as well. _She can't be too close, I thought._

I opened the door to my room, dragging Johnny in with me and slamming and locking the door. Then I quickly rushing to the window and called Johnny over. Just as I began instructing him on how to climb down, very quickly though, the door burst into shards. Literally, it just burst into shards. That was the only thing I saw though.

The next thing I knew, something had slammed into me, knocking the wind out of me, and slamming me into the wall. I sat up dazed, the thought of escape still firmly latched in my brain. Then another something slammed into me again, and this time I was not so lucky. I flew _through the wall. Yes, __through it. I had the vague thought of __ouch, that hurt, before I began to fall. _

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **

            I sense it, the thrumming energy of the portal. My heat lifts. It is in a small neighborhood near here, next to a five-story house. I murmur the words that conjure up the image of what is happening around the portal. 

            Everything is peaceful and serene. The gathering night is illuminated by the portal's dazzling rainbow of colors. I sigh in relief. 

            But then—

            A small figure, the light of the portal flashing off its strange, silver-colored hair—

            Plummeting right through the portal.

*** * * * * * * * * Aria * * * * * * * * * ***

            I fell. Everything around me blurred. All I could hear was the wind rushing over my ears. I closed my eyes. For a second I considered just giving up, just letting myself fall to the ground and probably break my neck. I considered not showing any resistance. Death would be welcome. _Perhaps it's time for me to join my Shadow-Lover, I remembered from one of the books I had read a while ago. But it was only a flash, a mere speck of a thought._

            I remembered Johnny. I remembered my friends at school, Lilly and Ryan. I sill had something to live for, even though hope seemed to be lost right now. No, I would not give up yet! I braced myself for the fall, trying to turn my body into the right position so that I would land safely. I waited. 

            Nothing.

            I opened my eyes for a brief glance at what was happening. A dazzling array of light met my eyes in the increasing darkness, millions of different colors, changing and flowing. I was falling into—a rainbow? 

            And then I was through it, having the strange sensation that I was moving through a million different landscapes—water, fire, grass, sky—all at once. 

            And still I fell. I began wondering when this fall would end. But suddenly, I was falling through branches, through a thick canopy of trees. Brambles and branches struck my body; leaves whipped my face. I bit back a cry. 

            I fell through more of thick foliage. All thoughts of landing properly were out of my mind. I just concentrated on not falling on an upright branch and killing myself. But the ground came all too fast. For a moment I was free of the foliage, falling through empty air. My eyes were closed as not to get them scratched out by brambles. Therefore, I did not see the ground rushing up to greet me.

            _Cra-a-ack__.___

            The sound seemed to ring through the dense mass of trees, vibrating. Fire exploded in my left arm. For a moment, I lost my breath, seeing nothing except for bursts of color before my eyes, hearing nothing but the roar of blood in my ears, losing all thought of anything but the pain. I fought against the darkness that was creeping towards me. I opened my mouth to scream, but the years of training pierced through even this haze of pain, and I closed my mouth, letting out only a small whimper. No one could have kept entirely silent in this situation. 

            I don't know how long I lay there, thinking of nothing but the pain and at the same time, trying to turn my thoughts away from it. But at length, I tried to move myself. Once again, bursting balls of flame lacerated my left arm. My brain seemed to completely shut down. 

There was a ragged scream which I faintly recognized as my own, the totally random thought that I still had my packed bag and my weapons with me, and then—

Darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

YAY! I'm finally done! 

Disclaimer: Oh, the whole colors thing and time poem thing belongs to Elizabeth Haydon, the author who wrote the Rhapsody, Prophecy, Destiny trilogy. The thing after the time poem is mine though, that's why its so crappy. And the shadow-lover thing belongs to Mercedes Lackey. Too tired to write more notes.


	6. Chapter Six: Bad Luck

**What You See…**

Hey pplz! I'm sorry it took so long to update! Thanx for all the reviews! (You know, I say that every chapter don't i?) well, there were a few questions I wanted to ask last chapter but forgot because I was so tired and sleepy so I'll just ask them this chapter. I really hope that people actually read all the stuff I write in the beginning and end of each chapter and that I'm not just wasting my energy typing this. Well, some of you are impatient for the meeting and it'll come this chappie. Well, I've decided that I'll leave most of my notes at the end of the chapter instead of the beginning since I figure most people want to get on reading the next chapter instead of my notes; I know I'd want to. So, on with the next chappie!!!

* * * * * * * * means a switch in point of views. Some people were confused and wondered how Aria somehow did magic. SHE DID NOT DO MAGIC!!!! It was someone else who I'll reveal later.

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. I hope anyone who's reading this does not have the sadly misguided idea that I'm a dead man who's suddenly decided he wants to come back to life and write fanfiction for his own books. If you are like that, I have to say that you're mental cuz Tolkien is DEAD!!! and he's a guy and if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a GIRL! I thought my pen name, Lady of Dreams, kind of gave that away, but I'm really sorry if you thought I was Tolkien. I also hope you notice the sarcastic tone of voice here.

Well, that was a long disclaimer! And the title of chapter five was part of the lyrics of the song A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton. It does not belong to me. Now, on with the next chappie! ^_^

**Chapter Six: Bad Luck**

            Someone fell through…

Someone other than me went through…

Other than me…

Into the portal…

My mind seems unable to function. My whole body feels light; everything around me is spinning, twirling like a graceful ballet dancer. 

            Fell through…

_            This cannot be happening_, my mind whispers, _this cannot be happening…_

To open a time portal is forbidden by the greatest of powers because the amount of power needed for the cutting open of the seams of the one world to enter another is great, beyond imagination. Usually, it takes many mages, all of great power to open one. But using such a great amount of power is extremely dangerous. If the mages do not completely control the power with ease, there is a great chance that it will get out of control and cause a major disaster. During the War of Power, a group of mages had attempted to open a portal in order to escape the forces which were bearing down upon them. Unfortunately, they were not able to maintain the power they harnessed, losing control of it, and thus destroying the entire continent of Parslia. This did not take place on Earth, of course, but on a different planet. The creation of a portal, though, to those that know traveling between worlds is possible, is strictly forbidden on all planets.

The penalty of doing so, even if successfully, is death. _For that alone, I would have been killed_, I think, _but for allowing another to fall through…_ I shudder. _For that, I will be sentenced to the Burning. Taken to the Chasm, I will be cast into it, into the home of Arnu, the Eternal Dragon, whose flames shall lick and burn my body until the end of time. It was a cruel fate, not suffered by many, used only in the gravest of situations. The events at the portal played through my mind again, like a movie that refused to be turned off, playing, rewinding, then playing again._

Silver hair…

Rushing towards the portal…

Falling through…

Falling…

I knew that the moment someone had gone through, the portal would close. I also knew that I could do nothing about it. So, I had done what I could. I had tried to send my magic through it before it closed, so at least the girl would have some form of protection until I could enter the portal and bring her back. Unfortunately, I had not been quick enough. I had sent the embodiment of my magic through the image and towards the portal as quickly as I could but too late. It had closed, vanishing into thin air, leaving the spot where it had been empty and desolate. Only one tiny strand had managed to squeeze its way through, and that would not be much help at all. If she died in the other world that _I had opened… _

I feel tears threatening to spill, tears of failure and hysterics, and clamped down tightly over them. _I will **not** be reduced to wailing over this like a baby! I think, angrily wiping away my tears. _I **will be strong. There must be a way to open the portal again!**_ Focusing on that thought with every ounce of concentration I had, I begin to slip into the trance-like state that comes over me when I perform search-magic._

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **

            He did not understand. 

Confusion. That one word described perfectly his emotions right now. Then again, he had often been confused. In fact, he often was confused, confused about his parents, about his sister, about the whole world around him. His whole life was just a seething mass of confusion.

When Aria had found him in his temporary room, the one his parents had told him to stay in for the day, he had been overjoyed. He did not get to see his sister very often. Ever since a few years ago, he had only been able to see her around once a month. She had always looked rather tired, but she had always put on a smile when she saw him, a smile that lit up her entire face. And it would turn her face into that of what a teenager's face should look like, not like what hers so often did-- like ice, like an ice statue. Most often, she would be holding some kind of weapon in her hand, her body in fighting stance. But she would always glance up at the exact right moment and smile at him, the only time her expression of coldness melted and let in some of her true emotions, those of weariness and pain but also joy and cheerfulness. 

Her clothes would be a little dirty and her hair a little mussed, but he quite thought that she was the most beautiful thing in the world, in the way that a sweet little brother looks up to his darling big sister. He never did understand why some of the kids in his neighborhood thought their older siblings were mean. Why, his sister was one of the kindest people in the world! He absolutely adored her.

When they were little, she would always sing him nursery rhymes and make him laugh. He used to cry whenever the kids in the neighborhood picked on him because he was always so weak and couldn't run wild in the little playground with them. But then Aria would always drive them away and point out something interesting to him to take his mind off of it. "Why look, Little Johnny! Do you see that tiny yellow bird over there in that tree? It's feeding its babies! See the little worm it's dropping into the baby birdie's mouth?" And he would laugh and forget about the neighborhood kids and cling to his sister, for she was all he had.

But then, the memories would fade, and he would be past the door of what he knew to be the training room, though he didn't really understand what occurred in it, and his sister would be out of sight once again. He would sigh and walk on in silence, glancing up at the parent who was leading him somewhere. And the parent would smile down at him. If he had been older and more experienced in life, he might have noticed that the smile did not quite reach that parent's eyes, that only the corners of the mouth curved upwards while the eyes remained cold and uncaring. But he was too innocent to understand such matters, too young to comprehend lies and deceit. 

Quite often, he would ask if he could see Aria for a while. But his parents would always reply that she was busy right now and would not be happy if she was interrupted. Personally, he wasn't sure about that. But he did not argue against his parents. After all, they were always so nice to him, buying him all sorts of toys and books and basically anything else he wanted. They would read him bedtime stories and play with him. So he trusted them. The bond between him and his parents, though, was not as strong as that between him and his sister. Even he had sensed a change about his parents, though he could not quite place what it was that changed.

So, when she had told him that they were leaving, he obeyed. He did not understand why they were leaving, but he had complete and undying faith in his sister. He knew that she would not lead him astray. She had packed his things; they had rushed down the flights of stairs. But then their parents had come bursting in. He could still picture the look on Ari's face, the look of "no, they've found us out!" before it changed to a grim determination that frightened him a little. He had seen her throw something shiny at their father, seen him drop to the ground, a surprised look on his face. Still, he did not understand. Why was his father on the ground? Why did Ari throw something shiny at him? He had no idea that the shiny thing was a knife and that his father was dead. 

Then, she had shouted at him to run upstairs. Her face had a panicked look, but the determination was still there. He complied, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He could feel the all too familiar pain clenching his heart but ran on, knowing his big sister was counting on him to. He gasped for breath and began to stop. _No, the thought rang through his mind, __I will not stop. Ari is counting on me to keep on going! The thought was fierce; it filled him with fire. He ran on, though much more slowly now._

They reached a room. She shooed him in and slammed the door behind them. He heard the click of the lock. She rushed over to the window, beckoning towards him. He went. She was just explaining how to climb the thick rope down when the door burst into pieces. 

He turned around. What he saw then terrified him. It was his mother. But it wasn't his mother. No, his mother could never have such a look on her face, one of such cruelty and malice. It contained fury as well and a delight in the pain of others. He felt sick. That look was inhuman! But his expression became one of terror as he saw his mother shoot something—it looked like a ball of blackness—towards Ari, knocking her backwards against the wall. Now he was even more confused and stunned. What was going on? But then another ball of black shot towards her, sending her flying through the wall. A scream was torn from his throat, "No! ARI!!!"

He began rushing towards the window but was stopped by a hand pulling him back, stopping his mad rush to if his sister was all right. He looked up and into the eyes of his mother. For a moment, he was paralyzed in fear. He was staring into a chasm of darkness, a deep pit of inky nothing. And he was falling into it.

Falling, falling…

He knew no more.

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***

            "Did you erase his memory?"

"Yes. He will remember nothing. I am afraid that he did catch a glimpse of my true self, though."

"No matter; he will not remember. The girl?"

"I'm afraid I rather lost my temper with her. I did not expect her to be so daring as to try to escape. I underestimated her."

"The portal? Have you discovered where it is yet?"

"No. I cannot feel its presence anymore. It seemed to just…disappear."

"We must report this to the lord." 

"He will already know. We all felt the presence of the portal; we will feel its disappearance. But the Council will no doubt want to begin investigating into this matter, so we must go. Hurry."

One last muttered statement, "I do not envy the one who built that portal. He will have a hard time of it when we discover him."

Two black-clad figures strode out of a five-story house and into the gathering night, disappearing into the darkness.

*** * * * * * * ***

            The Council was in an uproar. The presence, the energy of the portal had just vanished a while ago. That meant that someone had crossed it, or else it would have just remained where it was until someone did cross it. But who? That was the question that no one seemed to be able to answer. 

Everyone was searching, seers, tracers, soul-searchers, magic-sensers, everyone. But whoever had created the portal must have been very skilled in the art of shielding, for no one could find a thing. Two black-robed figures suddenly materialized in the middle of the hubble.

"Finally!"

"Did you find out anything?"

"Do you have any information?"

"What happened to it?"

"Did it go awry?"

"Do we need to prepare for danger?"

A tide of questions followed their arrival, since they had gone to where the portal was supposed to be. The ignored the question, though, insisting on speaking to the lord. They were led to him. He immediately silenced the Council as the two figures made their report.

"We found nothing, my lord."

A wave of fear mingled with disappointment seemed to ripple throughout the crowd. They hushed again at the lord's command.

"Nothing?"

"Yes. The portal's presence disappeared. We did, however find another matter at hand."

One of the figures explained what had happened.

"So they tried to escape?"

"Yes, my lord. But they were unsuccessful."

"I would certainly expect so. You say you blasted the girl through the wall?" the lord raised his eyebrows.

The figure flushed. "I'm sorry, my lord. I lost my temper."

"And where is she now?"

"Lying unconscious in the backyard, no doubt. I shall not do anything so foolish again, my lord."

"Good. You know better than to lose your temper."

"I shan't do it again, my lord."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud gasp from a figure that was sitting in the corner, a soul-senser who had been searching for the portal. 

The lord's head snapped toward that direction. "Adrian. Did you sense something?"

The man came out of the shadows to stand before his lord. The Council murmured. The man's face was a ghastly color of white. His hands trembled; his body shook. Whatever news he bore was not good.

"My lord," he began faintly but then stopped to catch his breath. Working magic took its toll on people and combined with the amount of nervousness radiating from this man…

"Bring him water," the lord commanded.

After a few sips of water, the man found the strength to continue. "My lord, I'm afraid that I have bad news. Well, I was searching but then—well, you see, it's like this. The portal—Well—"

The lord waved an impatient hand. "Just get to the point, Adrian."

"Yes, my lord," the man replied with a bow. He turned towards the two figure in black robes that were standing in front of the lord as well. His voice trembled as he spoke again, "Your charge, Ariana, I believe, has fallen through the portal."

*** * * * * * * * Aria* * * * * * * * * **

            I woke slowly, aware of the sounds around me. The chirps of birds, the crawling of insects. I knew only one fact.

This was _not my backyard._

 Training took over my body. _Rule number 28: when captured by enemies and seemingly unconscious, always try to figure out where you are, who's with you, and what's going on before showing any signs of stirring, I thought grimly. I had silently scoffed when I first heard that rule. Enemy territory? Hello, it's the twenty-first century! What, are we still living in World War II or something and I just don't know? But for once all that training of what to do if you were attacked, ambushed, in battle, and yadda yadda yadda actually seemed to be coming in handy. Of course, I had no clue if this was "enemy territory" but what the heck? Might as well give it all I've got. _

I kept up the pretense of being asleep while I stretched out my senses. I smelled the deep, fresh scent of earth and…decay. Things, I didn't want to think what, wriggled underneath me. The ground was made of soil, and I could feel my body flattening little tendrils of what I hoped were weeds. My eyes were closed, so I could see nothing, but no sunlight pierced my eyelids, so I assumed that it was still night. I felt a surge of relief. _Good, I haven't been unconscious for long_, I thought. The plan failed, though. Somehow, I wasn't too surprised by that. One part of me had always thought that it was hopeless, trying to escape. I just hoped that nothing had happened to Johnny. _Wait, Johnny!_ I mentally groaned and berated myself at the same time. If my parents had hurt him for what I had done, I would never be able to forgive myself. My thoughts began to lead me elsewhere, and I forced my mind to concentrate on the matter at hand. I would worry myself to death later. _Though my parents will probably kill me before I can do that.___

Everything was silent except for little sounds. Forest sounds. _Forest__ sounds? I almost frowned but stopped myself in time, remembering that I was supposed to be asleep. There were no forests in my backyard! There was one in the next neighborhood over, but surely, I couldn't have fallen all the way over there! It was a little less than a mile away! I listened again. Yep, those were definitely forest sounds or I'd eat my sword, though that's thoroughly impossible…but that's beside the point. I couldn't hear any human noises, footsteps or breathing or any sort of that type of noise. Deciding that either there wasn't anyone around or else that someone was an extremely well-trained warrior, I opened my eyes. _

I was right. There wasn't anyone around me, not a soul. I was also right about the fact that I was in a forest, though not like any forest I'd ever seen. The trees were tall and immense, their boughs creating huge shadows that fell over everything. I could not see all the way to the sky above. I was situated in a clearing, lying flat out on the ground. Everything around me seemed extremely dark and murky. There was a feeling of danger here. I shivered, though it was not cold. _Wait, it's not cold! I realized with a start. The season was only just beginning to become spring; it was definitely supposed to be much colder than this. The climate was warm, not overly so like in the summertime but like the air of spring, not hot, no cold, just warm._

Then I realized something else—it was not night. The only reason it was dark was because of the trees, there huge canopies shielding everything from sight. Uh-oh. Had I been out for that long? I looked around me the best I could from lying on the ground. Trees were all around me, gigantic trees, creating a strange, isolated environment. I shivered again. This place was creepy. I didn't know how so, but it just was. I looked around again. There was no familiar five-story house in sight. 

And so I came to the brilliant conclusion: Where the hell was I?

Well, I didn't really have an answer for that, so for the time being, I decided to focus on the more important things: whether I could manage to get up or not, if I was going to bleed to death, that kind of stuff. I firmly pushed all thoughts of Johnny and my parents out of my mind for now, promising my conscience that I would spend a full day worrying about that later. 

I tried to sit up. It worked, to some extent. I managed to get into a half-lying-down-half-sitting-up position, though it sent colors bursting in front of my eyes again for a while and fire to lace my arm again. Once I got a hold of myself, I examined my injuries, focusing mostly on my left arm. It was a very bad break. I could see the bone almost protruding out of my skin. It was a ghastly sight, and it hurt like hell. Trying to ignore that for the present, I continued my examination. There was a long and deep gash down my right leg. Dried blood was caked all around it. It had stopped bleeding some time ago. A few scrapes and cuts on my face and the rest of my body, but they were minor. My whole left side and part of my back felt like one gigantic bruise, though. Every tiny movement seemed to hurt. I wondered if it was possible to break and bruise everything in your body. 

Then I noticed something astonishing. I could see all the bruises and cuts from last night's training. They were no longer invisible. The bruises and cuts that dotted my body were fading, though, healing. _But that's impossible_, I thought in surprise, _those should be fresh, not look like I've had them for a week or two! _Great. Another mystery. But mixed with that feeling of "this is impossible" was joy. I could go to the police now! I had the evidence! Johnny and I could escape! But I stopped the wild dreams before they could stop. That was not important right now. That was all of the damage. Next step: try to stand up. But while all of this was going on in my mind, part of it was still trying to figure out where I was.

For a wild moment, I imagined that I had fallen into Middle Earth, one where I would be welcomed and loved. I thought about all the stories I had read on fanfiction.net, a website I visited when I found the time, about girls falling into Middle Earth and then joining the Fellowship and falling in love with one of the characters. Then I came back to reality. _Middle Earth, huh_, I thought both bitterly and amusedly, _girls that fall into Middle Earth don't break their arms and bleed to death and look like a patchwork quilt. They're supposed to be beautiful and powerful. Someone is supposed to rescue them the moment they arrive, probably Legolas, and then they fall in love and live happily ever after. They don't fall into Middle Earth and stay stranded someplace with every damned bone in their body broken! Where's my savior?_

By now, I was quite angry about the situation that I was in. I wished that some person would come! Why did I have to have such bad luck? I snapped myself out of my mental tirade about the being in Middle Earth and the unfairness of everything. _First of all, I reminded myself sternly, you are not in Middle Earth. _Second of all, stop daydreaming and figure a way out of this situation. You're not some damsel in distress! You're tougher than this, girl!__

I angrily cut off any and all of my daydreams. I was _not_ in Middle Earth. I tried to stand, but fell. The cut on my leg hurt badly; it had begun to bleed again. I sat down, trying to staunch the blood flow. When I had slowed to a trickle, I tried again but to no avail. Deciding that this was not working, I dragged myself over to a low hanging tree branch and pushed myself up to a standing position. For a moment, I felt overcome with dizziness. Everything hurt, especially my arm! I surveyed everything from a standing position, trying to locate my backpack and weapons.

I saw my backpack lying in a bush some ways over. I saw my sword lying on top of another bush and my bow on the ground. My daggers and throwing knives were still on me, of course, but I couldn't see where the rest of my weapons were. I began to make my way over to my backpack. My first few steps were slow and weak, my right leg shaking. I felt so heavy. I relieved myself of my daggers and throwing knives so that I could walk easier. I hoped that there weren't any wild animals in this forest. _Almost there, I thought wearily, __ten more steps. Nine, eight, seven—_

Suddenly, I froze, hearing a noise, a rustle of leaves. I normal circumstances, my hand would have been on the hilt of my sword or knife or whatever weapon I had with me, but I didn't have my weapons. I slowly began to walk back to retrieve the knives I had thrown down to walk more easily. I stopped to listen every once in a while. Nothing. Maybe I had just imagined it. I bent down slowly but then heard the rustling noise again. I lifted my head and stared—

At the eight, hairy, long legs of the biggest spider I had ever seen.

Damn, I have bad luck.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

YAY! Done with another chappie! It as going to be longer, but then I wouldn't have been able to update tonight, so I decided to cut it down a bit. I have a bad habit of writing to much. Now for questions, and I have a lot: **I KNOW THE ****PALACE**** OF ****MIRKWOOD IS UNDERGROUND****, BUT IS THE REST OF THE CITY OR WHATEVER UNDERGROUND TOO? WHAT KIND OF A ROMANCE FIC DO U GUYS WANT THIS TO BE, LOVE/HATE, LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, ETC.? PLEASE TELL ME YOUR OPINION! ALSO, DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE I CAN LEARN ELVISH? A WEBSITE PERHAPS? LAST QUESTION: CAN SOMEONE TELL ME THE HISTORY OF SAURON OR IF ITS TOO LONG, TELL ME A WEBSITE OR BOOK WHERE I CAN FIND SAURON'S HISTORY/HOW HE CAME TO BE? Whew, those were a lot of questions, but like I said, I forgot to ask last chapter. **PLEASE ANSER MY QUESTIONS! AND DON'T GET TOO ANNOYED WITH ME ABOUT THEM! AND REVIEWS PLEASE!!! ^_^****

And now for some of my comments on reviews:

Kelly: no, I don't take martial arts. I'm probably too unphysically fit for it anyways. *sighs* I do, however, take fencing, but I'm only a beginner. I've just read a lot of books that talk about war, swords, etc. so I've gained knowledge.

Kyu: thanx for the compliments! ^_^

Volcan of Dragonfire: sorry if its confusing. Things will be explained later on. 

TO ANYONE ELSE WHO IS COMPLETELY CONFUSED: ALL WILL BE EXPLAINED EVENTUALLY. PLEASE BE PATIENT!

Wingweaver: can u please tell me what exactly I need to work on on the dialogue? Sry if I sound stupid, but I suck at critiquing my own work.

Deortheod: Johnny is a nazgul? LOL LOL LOL sry, I hope you're not insulted. I just found that extremely funny when I read your review. 

                                                                                                            **_~Lady of Dreams~_**


	7. Chapter Seven: Lost and Found

**What You See…**

SNOW DAY!!! NO SCHOOL!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :)  I'M SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!! *gasps for breath* okay, I'm okay now. I'm just really really really really really really really really (how many is that now?) really really really really excited that there's now school today. ESPECIALLY because we WERE supposed to take the writing test today. ^_^ so I can post another chappie! Hopefully. If I don't get distracted by something or the other, I will be able to post this up today. 

Well, thanx for the lovely reviews!!! *tries to hug reviewers; they run away screaming* ok, well, she'll definitely meet Legolas this chapter. I kno lots of u have been waiting for that. Well, I'll leave more notes at the end of the chapter so… on with the next chappie!!

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. I'm not a man who has come back from the dead to write fanfiction for his own books. You better have known that. Don't sue me.

Oh, and people I have no clue what exactly Mirkwood's giant spiders look like or how giant they are, so I just made this up, ok? I kinda picture them as looking like daddy long legs. Also, I don't know what a spider's anatomy is like, so I might get things a little bit mixed up here. Just bear with me please. 

FOR ALL THOSE WHO ARE CONFUSED: IN CONVERSATIONS WHERE I DON'T SAY WHO IS WHO, JUST PRETEND THAT IT'S A TWO-PERSON CONVERSATION. LABEL ONE PERSON A AND THE OTHER B. IT WILL HELP CUZ MOST OF THE CONVERSATIONS ARE BETWEEN TWO PEOPLE. THEN, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHO THE PEOPLE ARE, U CAN AT LEAST GET A GIST OF WHAT THE CONVERSATION IS ABOUT.

**Chapter Seven: Lost and Found**

* * * * * * * * * Aria* * * * * * * * * 

            I stared at it for a second, frozen in fear, shock, and indecision. An instant thought of _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and Aragog occurred to me. Spiders just __don't get that big! It was even bigger than me, like over seven feet! It had a humongous, hairy, black body, or whatever the middle section on spiders was called (did it have sections?). I probably should have paid more attention in science to spiders. But hey, did I know that someday I would be us against a super-sized one. Eight thick, long, legs, eight shining, black eyes, and pincers that looked about as sharp as my sword were attached to its round body. It resembled a daddy-long-legs in a way, though those legs were definitely not thing and spindly. A silken strand hung from one of the branches of the massive trees. It had apparently swung down from the treetops on it._

The only thought that was on the part of my mind that was calm, which was a very small part, I assure you, was, _Get to your weapons._

It lunged—dove, jumped? I had never seen a spider move quite like that—at me. My reflexes took over, and I dove underneath it toward the other side of the clearing, almost blacking out when I jarred my broken arm, and grabbed as many knives and daggers as I could with my right hand, since I currently could not feel my left one and probably couldn't have used it anyway. I spun back around quickly. It had recovered from its lunge and was now scuttling towards me. For a moment, panic took over. How exactly do you fight a giant, monster-sized spider? Where do you aim your weapons, where in the huge mass of its body? At home, I had just stepped on spiders. I would've loved to stomp on this one; there was only one small problem. It was bigger than I was.

The moments panic ended as training, the cursed and blessed training, took over. I glanced at it with a cold calmness, like I had separated myself from my body and was only a spectator watching a show, that unnerved the "oh my god, I'm gonna die" part of my mind, as it scuttled towards me. I considered my strategy, where to throw. I decided on the left side of its body. _Hell, why not?_ I thought. _Maybe it has some type of heart or something. All of this analyzing took place in a matter of a few seconds._

It scuttled closer. I threw one of my knives. It hit the right side of the spider's rotund body with deadly accuracy. I had always been rather good at throwing things, usually some type of weapon, but when I was little, I used to throw apples from the tree in our backyard to Johnny. They were the most delicious apples ever, huge, red, and juicy. It staggered in its frantic scuttling but then continued on, clicking it pincers menacingly. _Uh-oh, wrong spot_, I thought. There was enough time for one more throw. Then again, I only had one more knife left; I had only managed to grab two. I aimed again, catching the spider's left side. It stumbled once again but still continued. _Ok, now it looks mad, I thought rather nervously. _

Once again, it lunged at me, and I dove under it, this time shoving all the knives and daggers I had thrown down towards the base of the tree I was running towards. I whirled around again, this time not wasting the time to think up a strategy, just throwing randomly. If my arm had not been broken, I probably would have done something smarter than just random throwing, but a red haze was beginning to fill my head, and my breath was coming out in gasps and wheezes. My wounds were catching up with me. I didn't exactly see where I hit it; I just kept on throwing until I ran out of weapons. When I had thrown my last knife, I noticed that all was quiet except for my ragged breathing. 

The spider was sprawled on the ground, apparently dead. I crept over cautiously to check. It was dead. Going over to a base of a tree, I sat down, hard, so exhausted that each move little movement seemed like lifting a weight. My arm was shooting little bolts of white hot lightning through my body. Resisting the urge to throw up, I analyzed my situation. I had no clue whether I had actually hit it in the right place or if it had gained so many injuries that it had finally been killed. Or maybe it was only unconscious. Can spiders be unconscious? I shook my head, trying to clear it of those thoughts. They were confusing me. Then again, giant spiders in themselves were confusing. Had that been a wildly mutated spider from some science factory or something? I racked my brains. Yes, there was a scientific research company in Northborough…if this was still Northborough. But then where else could it be? 

I couldn't do this. I couldn't go on without knowing where I was. For the moment, I decided to _assume that my mom had somehow blasted me all the way to the forest in the next neighborhood, thought my sensible side was protesting that this was not possible. I also decided to assume that the spider was some escaped lab creature running wild. If I used my imagination, I shuddered. I would probably lose what sanity I had left after being attacked by a giant spider. Nevertheless, as I stared up at the big boughs, casting shadows over everything, the ideas of Mirkwood and the Forbidden Forest came to mind. I shook myself out of my reverie. _No_, my mind reprimanded me angrily, _how many times do I need to remind you that you're not in Middle Earth, no matter how much you wish you were? And now you think you're in the world of Harry Potter too?!__

I sighed, knowing this was true. How many times had I wished that I would fall into Middle Earth, just like the girls in the stories on fanfiction.net. Being in the world of Harry Potter would be fine too, though. It probably would've been a good idea to try to find my way out of this forest, but to tell you the truth, I was just too plain tired. I leaned against the tree. _Things_ wriggled against me, but I was too weary to care. My eyelids began drooping. _No, I thought, _can't fall asleep! Not in the middle of who knows where!_ _

To stop myself from sinking into slumber, I began examining myself again. Strands of my hair were coming out of my braid, hanging in around my face. I grimaced, thinking of the unpleasant task I would have later of brushing out my hair, which was so full of twigs, leaves, and tangles that I felt like I might have to cut it off. My flared jeans with a little cut at the bottom were ripped, one pant leg having completely fallen off at the knee, while the other dangled by just a thread. My tight-knit shirt was also torn. One of the sleeves had been ripped off at the shoulder, and the rest of the shirt looked like a million branches had snagged it, though, thankfully, it was not ripped any further. 

My arm still hurt like hell, though now it was slowly beginning to numb, which I took as a bad sign. I looked at it and winced. The bone looked like it was going to break the skin any moment now, and the part where it had broken was extremely swollen and a ghastly shade of purple. I turned away from my arm, not wanting to look at it but knowing that it would have to be set soon or else it would not mend properly. I hoped that I could find my way out of here soon or else I would be looking at the cheerful prospect of trying to set it myself. 

Then, I remembered something. My watch! I could find out what time and day it was, how long I had been here! I peered at my watch with my neck bent in a strange angle, since my watch was on my broken left arm. 9:12 PM on Tuesday. I frowned. This couldn't be right! It was daytime! I looked at my watch again, to make sure I had read it correctly. Still, it read 9:12 PM. I glanced upwards. Yup, definitely daytime. So I decided that my watch had probably been broken during the fall. Great, I had no clue where the hell I was, what day it was, or what the time was. Great, just great.

My eyes strayed to my right leg. The long gash had started bleeding again. 

Red liquid, seeping from my leg.

Red as wine.

Red as the firey sunset.

Red, blood red.

My blood.

I stared in morbid fascination at the stuff dripping down my leg.

Drip, drip.

Like red water.

I had not seen my own blood very often before. Seeing it now gave me a strange sense of pleasure. I had proof, evidence. 

Drip, drip.

Sinking into the ground.

Splattering on leaves.

Drip, drip.

Red blood.

I tore my gaze away. I felt like I was going insane. To give myself something to concentrate on, I stood up the best I could and began stumbling over to my pack, which was on the other side of the clearing. And then, guess what? Another spider decided to come and visit me. Wait, no, two—three other spiders! Gee, I never knew I was this popular.

It had never occurred to me that the spider I had killed might have a mate or a pack or children or something. I realized that I was thinking of them as natural animals, as actual creatures. _No, I told myself sternly__, it is not a natural creature. Science experiment. Science experiment. Science experiment. More mutations, not a pack. I repeated this over and over, therefore keeping my thoughts rational and sane. I cursed my own stupidity. What to do next…_

I had read a series of novels called the Dragonlance Saga when I was in eighth grade. I vividly remembered the Solamnic knights in it. _Est__ Sularus oth Mithas._ My honor is my life. They were those who were extremely loyal, brave, and honorable, those who fought to the death, those who faced their enemies even when they had no weapons and knew they were outnumbered but still preferred to die honorably, getting killed in battle rather than run. 

Boy was I glad I wasn't a Solamnic knight.

Seeing my weapons lying too far away for me to reach and three giant spiders, seeming to me even larger than the first, if that was possible, advancing towards me, fear rose in my heart, fear of death. I did not fear pain but death, the knowledge that I would never again see my dear brother or my friends, had always been a fear of mine. I had read many books and stories in which a main character, whether of guilt or bravery, ran forward to meet their deaths. I had thought this selfish of them. They would not be there for the aftereffects. They would not see the family and friends grieving over them, see the tears shed, the lives damaged. They would not see the lover who had given his/her heart fade away into nothing. No, those who went to their deaths were not brave or heroic. Only selfish. So I did what any practical, rational person would do in this situation.

I ran for my life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            I come out of my trance. I found nothing. Then again, I expected to find nothing. Portals, I had done extensive research before attempting this feat, always vanished right after they were entered by someone.

But my search was not completely fruitless.

A thin smile of triumph comes to my lips. I had learned a fact that I had not known before.

Portals always returned to their creator if the creator did not go through. They were, in a sense, living beings. A portal could sense when its creator had not entered it and would find its way back to its creator.

But my smile is replaced with a frown as I realize another fact. I have no idea _when it will come to me. There is nothing I can do about it, though. I sigh and stand up. I gather up my magical components and pack them into a bag. Then I begin gathering all of my possessions together and packing them._

_Yes_, I thought grimly as I packed, _when it comes, I will be ready to go._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            A collective gasp rose from all members attending the Council. Even the Lord looked a little startled.

"Are you sure, Adrian?" the lord asked.

"Positive, my lord," he replied, still pale but relieved that the news was out. The two black-robed he had addressed the information to looked shocked.

"Her? Her?" one of them said in disbelief.

"Yes," Adrian repeated once again.

The other figure looked livid. "Why, that little— Oh, I'll teach her a lesson, all right!"

The lord raised a placating hand. "If you could find her. Do not let your emotions control you, Daughter." He was not her father. The lord called all of his protégés daughters and sons, though not out of affection. "We have already discussed this."

The figure flushed in shame. "Yes, my lord. My apologies."

"Can you sense where the portal is, Adrian. Do you know which world she has entered and what time period?"

"No, my lord," Adrian replied. "I'm afraid that none of our order may gather this information." The rest of the Council nodded in agreement.

"Well, we shall continue looking. Now, on to other matters."

"My lord, the girl—"

"What is it now, Daughter? The girl is not important," he asked irritably.

"She was—" the figure did not continue, rather just stared into the lord's eyes.

The lord paled noticeably. The mages all around noticed and hurriedly went to fetch him water. After taking a few sips of water, the lord spoke again. "Why did you not tell me sooner?" his voice was deadly and cold.

"My lord, I did not think it was a matter of importance."

"Well, it is!" the lord snapped. The Council murmured nervously. They had never seen their lord so angry before. "She could ruin everything we've worked for!"

"My lord, I apologize—"

"No, Daughter. Both you and he must learn a lesson. Take them to my manor, to the dungeons." 

"My lord!" But they were led away.

The lord began to pace. "My lord, what are your orders?" someone asked him.

"Find her!" he hissed. "Find that damned girl!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            The trees were curious. Long had they watched the comings and goings of the fair-haired Elves and the occasional human. Long had evil been present in this forest; long had they watched the many elves fight off the orcs and spiders that now roamed in the forest of Mirkwood. But in their infinite years, they had never seen quite a creature with such-colored hair. It was female, for sure, and human. But such a strange hair-color!

The trees had seen blonde-haired elves. They had seen brown-haired elves. They had seen dark-haired elves and auburn-haired elves. But this strange, human girl had silver hair! It shone, even in the gloom of Mirkwood. 

Molten silver, gleaming like the blade of a polished sword. 

They had seen her open her eyes, and they had looked upon them with wonder. For her eyes were golden! Golden as the sun, as gold itself! 

Liquid gold, ever melting, a furnace that could melt the heart.

But then the gold was gone. Her eyes flashed for a second, as if a golden coin had been flipped in the sun, then became a clear, crystal gray.

Now the trees were even more curious. Who was this strange mortal child with silver hair and golden eyes that became gray? Who was she? 

Yes, the trees were ever curious.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            _You know, I thought to myself, __maybe running wasn't such a good idea. I had been running for what seemed to me like an eternity. I was gasping for air but never seemed to get enough. I had developed a cramp, I was sure the bottom of my broken arm was going to fall off any minute, and my right leg was also going to give out soon as well. I was going to collapse soon. I could feel me strength, which hadn't been much to begin with, ebbing away, like the waves ebb as the tide turns._

The spiders were fast. They did not scuttle along behind me, but rather dangled from silken threads from tree to tree. I think that they could've caught me at anytime they wanted but felt like playing with me a bit first. I was fighting a battle already lost. 

I ran on. My lungs felt like they were on fire, searing flames which consumed my ability to breathe. My right leg was beginning to go numb. I waited for the inevitable, the fall that would prove to be my downfall. It came. As I looked upwards and behind to see how close the spiders were, a large tree root tripped me. I hit the earth with a thud, luckily not jarring my broken arm too much. I waited for pincers to rip me open, closing my eyes, thinking about my friends and Johnny, praying that Johnny would be all right without me. 

They never came. I turned over and opened my eyes. There were no spiders in sight. I stood up, staring all around me in disbelief. Was this a trick of the spiders? I scanned the trees. I saw nothing. Had it all just been a hallucination? No, it hadn't. Silken threads were still hanging on tree branches some ways back. I felt extremely confused. Where had they gone? Yet another mystery. And another problem. 

I was even more lost than I had been before. When the spiders had appeared, I had just crashed into the undergrowth, heedless of my direction, the only thought on my mind that of escape. Now I had no clue where I had been before and was therefore unable to reach my weapons, my pack, and anything else that might have been of use to me. I sighed and looked about me. Well, I was definitely not going to wait here for some other strange creature to attack me. I randomly picked a direction and began walking, hoping to find someone, not something, soon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            The coming of the spiders had interrupted the trees' study of the strange girl. They had seen the girl run and the spiders chase after her. Their anger was aroused. They did not like interruptions. But it was not their place to interfere with the comings and going of the world. So they had watched helplessly as the spiders gradually gained on the girl.

The trees bore no love of the spiders that roamed the forest. They left sticky strands on their branches and often desecrated their trunks with their pincers when angry. They were helpless against the spiders, though. The trees did not have the power to move actively. So they watched on, angry but helpless.

Unbeknownst to the trees, however, a tiny, single strand of magic settled on them. All of their straining to whip the spiders' bodies away with their branches broke loose. Their branches brushed the spiders that were gaining on the girl away with a motion, then destroyed the spiders. Surprise ran through the trees. Surprise and ecstasy. They could move! They were free of their restraints! 

But as quickly as it had come, it was gone. They were frozen again, their branches and boughs still, unmoving. Disappointment raged. But gratefulness as well. They thanked whoever had provided them with the magic to move, to give them a taste of the magic of movement, even if it was only for a second.

They continued watching the girl.

* * * * * * *Aria * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            I was hopelessly lost. I had been wandering for hours, as my watch told me. Even if the time wasn't right, I could still tell from it how many hours had passed. My stomach growled. "Oh, shut up you," I snapped at it. "There's no food." It had been growling for the past fifteen minutes. When I first began looking for a way out, I had tried to be silent. That was not so difficult, since silence was bred into my very essence. But after a while, I began to tire. Exhaustion sank into my very bones, and it was all I could do to keep walking. Eventually, exhaustion won the battle, and silence was slain. My movements were clumsy, bumbling. I bumped into bushes, rustled leaves, stepped on twigs. 

I was very annoyed with myself now. I had learned tracking, but I hadn't been that great at it. What little I knew didn't seem to be helping out here in the wilderness. I came upon none of my own tracks, though, so at least I knew I wasn't going around in circles. My guess that it was afternoon now. My throat was parched and dry. When had I last drunken water? A day ago, a night ago? Everything was slowly but surely beginning to slip away from me. School was so pointless. How was Algebra II going to help me now? Training was not helping either. I can't fight the forest and demand it to show me the way out!

I saw a rise a little ways to my left. I decided to head for it, see if I could make out houses or something. I stumbled uphill, tripping on the dangling cloth of my left jean leg, then ripping it out in frustration. I now wore what somewhat resembled capris. By the time I reached the top of the hill, I was hot, I was hungry, I was thirsty, I was dirty, I was tired, and I was sure that this was the worst form of torture I had ever been through. The broken arm didn't help much either. I think it was really getting to me; I was usually more durable than this. Standing atop the rise, I scanned the land below me. 

I was disappointed to find nothing except for more trees and a small clearing. In frustration, I kicked at the terrain. "Damn this fuckin' forest! Damn my fuckin' parents! Damn my fuckin' life!" I shouted, my face pointing upwards toward the unseen sky. "What did I ever do to deserve this? Tell me? What the freakin' fuck did I ever do???" I was really angry. I was normally not one to cuss so much; that was Lilly's department. I picked up a rock and hurled it toward a tree trunk, hearing a satisfying _thunk as it hit the place I had been marking. _

I tried to calm myself, gazing over the rise again. Wait, was that a person? Yes, it was! A million emotions—delight, happiness, joy, relief—all rushed through me at once. A small figure had cautiously stepped into the clearing. I saw him look around, then beckon to others behind him. Before they could go away, I waved frantically at them, using my good arm. Fearing that they couldn't see me from my position, I yelled out, "Hey! Over here! Are you guys from the neighborhood? Help please! Over here!" 

I thought I saw one of them begin to turn towards my direction. Too late did I hear the buzz of an arrow. Something struck my left shoulder. I glanced at it in surprise. An arrow was sticking out of it. I glanced backwards to see who had shot it. A band of creatures was rushing down from the cover of trees a little distance from me. The creatures were ugly, deformed, snarling in a grotesque language, clutching various weapons. _Am I seeing orcs?_ I wondered vaguely, waves of pain and exhaustion assaulting my mind. The next thing I knew, darkness had come to claim me once again.

* * * * * * * * * * Legolas* * * * * * * * *

            I turned when I thought I heard someone yelling. A small rise stood some ways off. And there, I saw the band of orcs that we had been tracking all day. I shouted an alarm to the group traveling with me, then readied my bow and arrow. The orcs were rushing towards us and dropping like flies as arrows flew through the air.

The battle was an easy one. Most of the orcs were killed by arrows. We had only resorted to close combat with the last few. Everyone was cleaning their weapons again, though this time, there wasn't too much to clean. I sighed. Exact repeat of yesterday, I thought gloomily. And it's probably going to be repeated again tomorrow. I wondered what had made me turn in that direction, what had made me spot the orcs. I glanced at the rise again. There was nothing there. Then—

A ray of sunlight managed to penetrate the dense foliage of the trees, and it gleamed upon—silver? 

"Aragorn," I called to my friend. "Do you see something over on that rise over there?"

He frowned, glancing over to the direction I was pointing. Then his expression cleared. "Yes, I think I see a bit of silver." So he saw it as well. Elves had keener eyesight than humans, but I noticed now that the sunlight shining on silver was lighting up the rise. I peered more closely. It looked like a person!

"Aragorn," I said, "I think there's a person over there!" I began running over. Aragorn followed me. I topped the clearing, and yes, a person lay there! A girl with silver hair! I was astonished and extremely curious. I had never seen such a color before, especially not on hair. She was also wearing strange clothes, a tight shirt made of a material I had never seen before and some type of tight, ripped pants. She was unconscious. Aragorn came up behind me.

"Why, it's a girl!" he exclaimed. She was lying facedown, an arrow sticking out of her left shoulder, her left arm broken. A bloody gash ran up her right leg. I crouched down and gently turned her over, then gasped. She was covered with fading bruises, fading cuts. Her face and arms were scratched and bruised, as were her legs. She had obviously either fallen down a lot or not been treated well. Aragorn checked her injuries. 

"She's badly wounded, Legolas," he said. "We need to get her to my father, quickly."

I helped him carry her, not asking any questions. I was suspicious, not sure where she came from, what her purpose was. But then again, all Elves of Mirkwood are generally suspicious of strangers. I would not be so coldhearted, though, as to just leave the poor girl here, when she was so wounded.

And so we ended the day, riding hard and fast back to the palace of Mirkwood.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

DONE!!! Took me forever. Sorry if the cussing offended u, but most people do cuss when angry. Questions: DO U GUYS LIKE LONG OR SHORT CHAPPIES? AND SHOULD I CONTINUE IN THIRD OR FIRST PERSON? DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT ELVES EAT AT LIKE BANQUETS OR DINNERS?  PLEASE REVIEW!!!

 LadyTremere: it kinda wasn't really his pov but kinda was. Like it wasn't the "I" pov so he wasn't really describing himself as sweet. AACK! I dunno how to explain it!!


	8. Chapter Eight: First Impressions

**What You See…**

SNOW DAY AGAIN!!!!!!!!! I'M SO SO SO SO SO HAPPY!!!! NOW, IT'S A FOUR DAY WEEKEND!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, obviously.

* * * * * * = change in point of views

_italics__ = thoughts or to emphasize a word_

**Chapter Eight: First Impressions**

*** * * * * * * * * * * Legolas's POV * * * * * * * * * * * **

We arrived back at the underground palace of Mirkwood as the sun was beginning to set. The horses were covered with sweat, looking very weary. Everyone riding the horses looked about the same. We had ridden as fast as we could. Even as we had ridden, the strange, silver-haired girl had begun to fade, her body burning hotly against mine. "Rub them down, and see to their needs." I instructed several stablehands. "Make sure they don't catch a chill." The stablehands bowed and rushed off to tend our horses. A look of concern was on Aragorn's face. He might try to hide it, but he had a soft heart. I knew that he was wondering how a young lady could get in such a situation. I knew I was. 

"Do not worry, Estel," I spoke reassuringly, calling him by his childhood name. "Your father is the best of healers."

He nodded in reply but said nothing. I heaved the unconscious girl off the horse and staggered. She was certainly not as light as a feather, though she was not overweight. She was lithe in body and figure, and beneath the many injuries, there was a look of innocence upon her face. I winced slightly as I looked down at her. No one deserved to be treated like that. She looked like she had been beaten, and very badly at that from the amount of bruises that dotted her body. For a moment, I felt a surge of anger as I thought about the man who might have done this to her. Then I wondered at myself, at why I felt such emotion on this girl's behalf. I had never even met her! She was a complete and total stranger, maybe even a spy. 

I looked around and saw similar emotions on the faces of many other elves that had accompanied me and on that of Aragorn. _Protectiveness, I thought wryly. _The same protective feelings that all males show towards females when they are hurt or in danger_. Most males did not see this, but I had lived long enough to realize it. With me carrying the young woman, we entered the palace through one of its many side entrances. I called on one of the messengers, bidding him to carry a message to Lord Elrond of Rivendell with the utmost haste. "Tell him that we found an injured young woman during our orc hunt and that she is fading quickly. Please tell him that I bid him to come to the rooms of healing as quickly as possible, or we may lose her." I told the messenger. He nodded, then sped off._

To my surprise, Aragorn followed. "I shall make sure that my father comes quickly," he called back to me as he rushed after the messenger. The elves who had come on the orc hunt began making their way towards the dining hall, though a few stayed with me. I began to walk towards the chambers used for healing. The young woman on in my arms groaned and stirred a bit as I turned a corner strode quickly down the empty hall where the rooms of healing lay. I slowed my pace as we reached the doors to one of the rooms. One of the elves that had come along opened it, and I entered.

The room was clean and tidy, with a canopied bed in the center. It was adequately, if not ornately, furnished and did not look like it had not been used for a long time. We always kept the rooms of healing new and spotless, just in case someone was severely wounded, which was just the case now. I placed young woman on the bed as the others lit torches and candles all around the room, illuminating it. We checked the rest of the accommodations to make sure that everything was usable. Servants brought hot water, cloths, and the rest of the things needed for healing. Lord Elrond, accompanied by my father, Aragorn, and the messenger arrived only a moment later. I almost groaned aloud as I saw that my elder brother Tándir was also with them. Things were not going well between us these days. He seemed to think me inferior to him and not experienced enough to traverse through Mirkwood, leading the orc-hunting party. I had proved my skills in weaponry many times, but he still seemed to see me as but a child. Our little conflicts had been becoming more explosive nowadays. He was always provoking me, trying to make me lose my temper and go into a fit of blind rage that would immediately label me as child. Others were beginning to notice the mounting tension between my brother and me as well, though, and often calmed us or separated us when things began to get ugly. I knew that one day we would have to settle this though. Avoiding each other temporarily did not seem to be working. 

Though I did suppress the groan, Tándir caught the expression on my face and smirked, seeing an opening for another verbal attack. "Not pleased to see me, Brother?" he asked silkily.

"Of course not, Tándir," I said, assuming an expression of innocence. Two could play at this game. "Whatever gave you that idea?" His face remained emotionless, and he did not reply, for the others in the room, very much aware of the rising conflict between us, were beginning to send us glances. 

Lord Elrond had been examining the young woman's wounds. He had asked no questions yet, though I knew they would be coming soon. He let out a small exclamation as he touched her forehead. "She is burning up with fever, and not a completely natural one at that!" He spoke in the Common, or Westron, so that those servants and healers who could not understand the Elven language would know what he said.

"When we found her, she had been struck by an orc arrow, probably from the band that we slaughtered. I think the arrow was poisoned," I explained. I brought out the arrow, handing it to Lord Elrond. 

He sniffed it delicately before saying, "Yes, you are right, Legolas. It is poisoned. Luckily, though it is not a very rare type of poison, which does not surprise me." He put the arrow aside. "I would be surprised if any band of orcs roaming around Mirkwood Forest poisoned all their arrows with unknown, lethal poisons," he added wryly. "Any place of healing would have the antidote." He summoned one of the lesser healers that were standing near the doorway, bidding her to fetch the plant that was the antidote as quickly as possible. He continued examining the girl.

"Legolas, my son, who is this young woman? How did you come upon her?" my father, who had been watching the whole scene being played out before him the whole time, asked.

"I do not know who she is or where she comes from, _Ada_," I replied. "I must say, though, that I have never seen clothes such as those she wears. Made out of such a strange material too!" Then I quickly related the story of how we had found her, also adding in that our orc hunt had been successful. My father appeared rather mistrustful of a strange human girl suddenly appearing in Mirkwood but said nothing.  

He became slightly more cheerful when I told him that we had slaughtered the band of orcs, though, saying, "Good! That was the last group we know of for now. You will not have rise with another gloomy expression on your face tomorrow, Legolas!" I opened my mouth to protest that I did not mind hunting down orcs, which was a complete lie, but my father interrupted me. "Oh, you can't hide it from me, my son! I see the expression on your faces when you are told that you must go orc-hunting again." I flushed in shame. My father put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Do not be ashamed. No living being, Elf or Man can go on hunting orcs for such a long time without becoming weary of the task."

I smiled softly and said, "Thank you, _Ada_."

"Nothing to it, my son," he replied, looking a bit embarrassed. He turned. "So, how is she?" he asked, addressing Lord Elrond. 

He frowned a bit as he replied. "She is severely wounded. In fact, her wounds are much more serious than the poison. She had lost much blood, but as long as she receives the proper treatment, she should be fine. Most of the bruises on her body are old, as if they have been there for a long time and are not a problem. But," he continued, his frown deepening, "she did not gain them by falling down or any type of natural injury. I would say that perhaps the orcs did it, but these bruises do not look like it, and orcs normally just kill their prey. No, they were made by a male's hand, though I would be shocked to see any male act in such a manner." 

At this, a gasp rose from many in the room. The female healers and servants looked shocked. The males all had looks of anger on their faces. Who could have done this? What male would lay his hands on a woman in such a manner? What kind of male would beat a woman? What could have been the reason for this atrocity? These thoughts were racing through my anger-clouded mind, and I could see them mirrored on other's faces. I, personally, did not know of anyone who would even _think_ of acting this way. And we had found her in the borders of Mirkwood. Had one of our own committed this heinous crime? My blood chilled at the very thought.

Lord Elrond continued briskly, though I could tell that he was disturbed as well, not giving the time for a flurry of questions to break out. "She has a few minor cuts that can be taken care of quickly, but I'm worried about this long gash on her leg. It is very deep and may have already become infected. It will need to be cleaned and dressed. Her arm has suffered a very bad break. I will need to set it immediately or else it will not heal in the right manner." He stopped, looking around the room. No one moved. "Well?" he asked. "We must start." At those words, everyone seemed to break out of their trances. A whirl of activity started, with the healers setting everything up for the long process of healing as everyone else was ushered gently but firmly out into the corridor. 

Some began leaving, my father being one of the first, saying that he had to attend to other matters. Those who had helped me bring the young woman to this room went next, telling me to inform them when her condition changed. Finally, Aragorn, Tándir, and I exited the room. "Ugly little thing, isn't she?"  Tándir remarked. "I mean, with those bruises and all. The only thing remarkable about her seems to be her hair color!" 

My fists clenched at my sides as I fought down anger at my brother's insensitivity and arrogance. "She was wounded; it is through no fault of hers that she looks that way. She did not choose to be in the situation she was found under. Appearances are not everything, my brother."

"I guess you would know, Legolas," Tándir said with a small sneer. "After all, you don't keep up your appearances, do you? At this rate, no she-Elf will ever fall in love with you!"

Keeping my temper in check, I replied calmly, "Is that all you ever think about, Tándir? Females and looks?" And before he could reply with some other stinging comment, I said, "You had better go, Brother. Or have you forgotten that it's your turn to watch the twins today? And I truly wish you luck," a mischievous grin formed on my face, "though I would not want to be in your position. Let's hope they do not decide that their dear older brother Tánny's (their rule for nicknames: two syllables and ends in something sounding like eee) hair has grown quite dull and that a new hairstyle is in order." Tándir scowled at me, stalking away down the hall without another word. Aragorn let out a chuckle, saying, "Legolas, you provoke your brother just as much as he provokes you!"

"What? It's true!" I said innocently. "And besides, he started it." 

Aragorn shook his head, still grinning, "You sound like your dear twin sisters when you say that." A rumbling noise filled the air. I laughed. Aragorn looked a little embarrassed but then said firmly, "Well, I'm going to the dining hall to eat because unlike you, I'm not an Elf and need more food." He began walking down the corridor, pushing me along. I let him push me, chuckling over both my small victory with Tándir and Aragorn. Thoughts of the silver-haired girl struck me, but I pushed them away, knowing that I could do nothing. So, laughing and joking, Aragorn and I made our way down to the dining hall.

*** * * * * * * Gandalf (third person POV) * * * * * * ***

He had felt it.

Magic, raw and powerful.

Loose and uncontrolled.

He had stopped in the middle of talking to an elf at Rivendell so abrubtly that the elf had been startled. 

Wild. So powerful! For a moment, he reveled in the feeling of such power. _Yes_, his mind whispered in ecstasy, _this is the very **soul** of magic!_ But then the feeling had gone, leaving him empty and cold. The magic had been cut off, stopped as suddenly as he had ceased talking to the elf who was standing by him very nervously. 

He came back to himself. That magic had been _too powerful. No wizard on Middle Earth that he knew, and he knew them all, had this kind of power. And if there had been a meeting of all the wizards scheduled, he would have been informed of it. He frowned, wondering what it could have been, who could have had such power. _Sauron___… his mind hissed. No, it couldn't have been. Sauron was still weak, defeated. Besides, evil had not been interlaced in that magic; he would have felt it. The magic had felt neither good nor evil but not neutral either. __Power. Yes, that was the perfect word to describe it. _

"Gandalf, sir?" the elf standing at his side asked nervously.

"What?" he snapped out of his musings.

"Well, I just said that Lord Elrond is currently in Mirkwood conducting negotiations with King Thranduil."

"Ah… I see. Mirkwood. About time as well. Thank you for telling me so. I shall head out for Mirkwood at once." Gandalf said.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night, sir?" the elf asked politely.

"Yes, yes, quite sure." He had good reason to make haste for Mirkwood. That was where he had felt the magic emanating from.  

Yes, he would be riding for Mirkwood as quickly as possible. 

*** * * * * * * * * * * * Aria's POV * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **

_Ouch._ My first thought. How wonderfully wonderful. My arm hurt. I could feel that it had been set, but it still hurt, though it was not the white hot knives or angry, piercing flames. More like a dull, pounding ache. I lay there for a while, thinking about how relaxed I felt, how nothing hurt anymore, excluding my arm, and how stress-free I felt. I snuggled more deeply under soft, cotton-like covers, my head resting on what felt like a goose-feather pillow. A seemingly silk nightgown clung to my body. Aaah… this was bliss.

Wait a second. Cotton covers? Goose-feather pillows? Silk nightgowns? What the hell? I fought the urge to jump up and demand what was going on. I remembered to pretend to be asleep, in case anyone was here. _Where here?my mind screamed at me. That was a very good question. Vivid images of the last thing that had happened flashed through my mind. _

Falling, the spiders, the hours, or so I assumed, of walking. 

Me, spotting other people.

Me, yelling and waving at them. I mentally groaned. That stupid, stupid, stupid action had probably caused what had happened next.

An arrow protruding from my shoulder. 

Blackness.

I supposed that I probably passed out after that. Johnny… I put up a wall against that thought. If I let myself think about it, I would fall into the deep hole of worry and guilt from which I would not come out of very quickly. I came back to the present, stretching out my senses again as I had done in the forest. Once again, nothing. Only the bed under me, the smell of clean sheets. I heard no one breathing or making any noise otherwise. No bright sunlight piercing my eyelids but no complete darkness either. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I was in some kind of room with torches and candles all around. _Who uses torches or candles these days? I wondered. __Hello, there's a little something called electricity! Then again, I had been attacked by mutant spiders and had wandered around in a forest for a couple of hours, so maybe this wasn't so unusual. _Maybe the power's down or this is a really poor family or something,_ I mused.  _

I wondered what day it was, what time it was. There were just about a million questions buzzing around in my head right now. I sat up slowly and silently to get a better view of the room, leaning my back against the back of the bed. I noticed that my hair was still in a messy braid, still full of twigs and leaves. After waiting for the black spots before my eyes to recede, I turned my upper body around to examine the room.

I bit my lip so hard that it began to bleed, causing a metallic taste to fill my mouth, and tried very, very hard not to scream, which took me quite a while. 

Legolas Greenleaf, sitting in a chair, with his eyes wide open and staring right at me, was right beside my bed.

Now, I would like to mention that while I am almost a Lord of the Rings obsessee, I was not a Legolas one, which I knew many people were. So, unlike any normal Legolas fangirl, I did not promptly hurl myself on top of him with a wild cry of "Leggy!" and a few hugs and kisses and start babbling incoherently. 

No, instead of that, I just kind of froze and stared while my mind did somersaults. Here's a little view of what was happening: _Legolas__! I'm in Middle Earth! YAY!!! _

_No, you're not in Middle Earth and that is not Legolas Greenleaf. _

_But, but—_

_No._

_Fine, be the big party pooper. Ok, if it's not Legolas and I'm not in Middle Earth, then it's __Orlando__ Bloom and he rescued me and I'm in the neighborhood where the forest was._

_Right, and your so-called rescuer **just happened** to be Orlando Bloom, a famous movie star who **just happens** to be in Massachusetts and **just happens** to be in this neighborhood instead of working on some movie or another in Hollywood. And he also **just happens** to be dressed up like Legolas from Lord of the Rings which finished filming three years ago. You've got to be kidding me._

_You're mean. Fine, if it's not __Orlando__ Bloom, then it is someone dressed up as Legolas._

_And pray tell me, why would someone do that?_

_I don't know. Probably some big practical joke._

_Now you're thinking logically._

_Right, so this is some guy paid to dress up as Legolas Greenleaf because my friends are playing a big practical joke on me and I just happened to be wandering in a forest getting attacked by a gigantic spider._

_Uh… maybe?__ Ok, we need some backup here._

And so I arrived at the stunning conclusion that I had no clue who this dude was. I know, my brilliance astounds me too. 

Well, he was staring at me, and I was staring at him. He didn't move, talk, or do anything. Finally becoming free of being an ice cube, I crawled a little closer to him and looked into his eyes. They were blank; there was nothing in them. 

Great, he was dead. I was staring at a dead person. I shuddered, then began to panic. _Then again, if I were in Middle Earth, he would be in an elven sleeping trance…_

_Don't even think about it._

Then I noticed that his chest was moving up and down. Relief seeped through me like honey seeping into bread. He, whoever he was, was alive. I examined him for a moment. Long, golden-blonde hair with braids. High, defined cheekbones. A face an artist would weep over. Soft, sensual lips, made for kissing. Strong, determined jaw. Pale, smooth skin. He was wearing some a forest green shirt that displayed lean, hard muscle. His legs looked very long (as far as I could tell since he was sitting) and finely muscled as well. He was wearing soft, green shoes. Dear god, this guy was HOT! But the eyes were really getting to me. Deep blue, blank, lifeless. I shuddered. What was wrong with this dude if he wasn't dead? 

My gaze strayed to his ears. They were pointy. I bit back an exclamation of surprise. Pointed ear tips. Just like an elf. At this point, I probably should've just stood up and escaped whatever place this was while no one was guarding me. But I didn't. My curiosity got the better of me. I moved closer to him, examining his ears. I reached out a hand to touch them, see if they were real. _Curiosity killed the cat_, my mind reprimanded me sternly. _But I'm not a cat, I argued against the sensible, reasonable part of my mind. Puny comeback, but hey. _

My finger traced the air above his right ear. I moved my fingers up to the pointed tip, longing to touch it, but not daring too for fear of waking him up. I felt a surge of anger suddenly. This was a really annoying practical joke. My mouth settled in a grim line. If this was a joke, might as well end it now. I settled myself in front of him, raising both hands. My left arm was in some sort of strange cast-thingie which I did not recognize. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the tips of his ears as hard as I could.  

*** * * * * * * * * * Elrond (third person POV) * * * * * * * * * **

Lord Elrond was troubled.

He had retired to his room shortly after the process of healing, declining both food and drink. He had enough food and drink in his thoughts to last him for a long time. 

He should have foreseen the coming of the girl. She had aroused the curiosity of so many, had intrigued so many. His gift of foresight should have told of her coming, as it did all events that affected many. _Does this mean that she is not important? _he wondered. _Or is my foresight failing me? What is the meaning of her coming? Legolas had said that they had found her in the forest. No one wandered around by themselves in the forest of Mirkwood these days, especially not women. Even trained warriors did not traverse the dangers of Mirkwood by themselves. _

And she was strange. Perhaps her nature, her personality was not strange, but her appearances certainly were. Silver hair. Never, in all his years of life, could Lord Elrond remember seeing someone, anyone with silver hair. 

And her wounds. He had never seen such wounds on a female, not even those who had been in battle. She had had bruises everywhere and had evidently been beaten. But in Mirkwood? By who? Questions, questions which he did not know the answer to plagued him.

Yes, Lord Elrond was troubled. That night, he stayed awake in his quarters and brooded over the thousand different questions rushing through his mind.

*** * * * * * * * * * * * Aria * * * * * * * * * * ***

The ear tips did not come off. Uh-oh.

The guy's eyes suddenly came to life. He jumped out of my grasp with a yelp, knocking over the chair in the process. I fell backwards onto the bed, then sat up quickly. The guy was rubbing the tips of his ears. I guess they weren't fake after all. But that would mean—that would mean—I would be in—He would be—He would be an elf! He would actually be Legolas! _I'm in Middle Earth! I thought happily. __Hallelujah! Then I remembered that there was no such thing as Middle Earth and that what I was saying was virtually impossible. But there was no other option! God, I swear this is something straight off fanfiction.net. I didn't know what to think. But I would worry about that later. _

I noticed the guy was staring at me. I must've looked quite a sight, sitting there in a nightgown, with stuff sticking out of my hair, I who had just tried to pull his ears off. That was not good. He was still staring at me. "Uh…" I said, or more like croaked. My voice was raspy. I coughed, trying to clear my throat. A glass of water appeared in front of my face. I looked up. The guy was offering me a glass of water. Damn, he was cute! The blue eyes were no longer blank, now they looked mystified. But they were such a color of blue! Like the peace of the sky, the crashing waves of the ocean. And I was drowning in those waves of endless blue. I pulled myself out, swam to shore with some difficulty and tried not to blush. Instead I hastily gulped the water. It was sweet, cool, and clear. Water is now my best friend. I never knew it could taste so good. "Thanks," I said. "And I'm really sorry for pulling your ears, but you see, I thought you weren't an—" I broke off. The guy was staring at me again. I recognized the look on his face. It was one of utter confusion. Realization dawned on me. He couldn't understand a word I was saying.

He spoke. A language that reminded me of all the good things in life, flowers, green grass, peace came out of his mouth. Now it was my turn to stare at him in confusion. What language was that? It was so beautiful… _Wait_, I reminded myself, _if I'm in Middle Earth, then he's probably talking elvish._ I shook my head to say that I didn't understand. He didn't look surprised. He began speaking in a different language. I didn't get that one either. I felt really stupid as he began changing languages while I just shook my head. I tried a few languages of my own, Spanish, which I was learning in school, French, which was the first language I had learned, greetings in every single language I had ever heard, from hola to ni hao. He didn't get any of them. 

Both he and I ran out of languages soon and just stood or in my case, sat, in silence. He was tall, over six feet would be my guess. And extremely cute, in fact. Damn, why couldn't I get over that fact? _The girls at school would die to get their hands on him,_ I thought. I decided not to try to figure out who exactly he was now. The silence was broken as he, with a frown marring his perfect face, said something and then walked out of the room.

Great, now I was alone. Not knowing what to do, I just sat there for a while. I felt extremely sticky and sweaty. _When was the last time I had a bath? I wondered. __How long have I been unconscious? I looked around the room, which was very nicely furnished, with tables, chairs, etc, and spotted a little side chamber on the wall to my right. A bathroom! I thought joyously. I made my way over to it and peered in. I was half right. It was a small chamber, sort of like a bathroom, but with no toilet. There was, however, a large, steaming tub full of water in the center of it. Towels, soap, and some things that I didn't recognize was on a small table next to it. _Guess they've been expecting me to wake up,_ I thought, ****__if__ this is for me. I had no clue. Oh well, I was feeling too dirty to care anyway. I was going to assume that it was for me._

But, before clambering into the tub, I went to the main room, closed the door leading to a hallway and shoved a table in front of it when I found no lock. Shoving the table worked me up into a sweat, since I was still weak from my wounds which didn't feel painful right now. I made a mental note to self to check on them later. It was also a bit awkward moving things with a broken arm, though, thankfully, it didn't really hurt that much. With that done, I made my way to the tub which was deliciously nice and hot, and managed, after a few minutes to get the nightgown off. Then, with a grateful sigh, I sank into it, keeping the broken arm out. I'd never broken anything before, so I didn't know if it was supposed to get wet. _I'm in heaven, I thought blissfully, __I've died and gone to heaven, that's it. Or maybe this is all a dream. I ruled that idea out quickly; I wouldn't have a broken arm that actually hurt in a dream. _Maybe I'm insane. Maybe I'm raving mad in an asylum right now._ I would consider the possibilities later. All I knew right now was that all was right and good with the world. _

I stood up, naked and dripping, and got out of the tub to go get some soap. I fetched a few bars of some nice, but strange, smelling soap and a little glass container full of rose petals that I found on the table. I felt like a princess right now. Nice, hot bath and rose petals. I sprinkled a few into the water, which was still rather clean, to my delight, set both the soap and glass container down, and undid my hair. I didn't want to think about how long it was going to take to get all the tangles out. I began stepping back into the tub, with my stuff-filled hair falling down my back. But I suddenly slipped in a spot of water. Instinctively, I tried to gain my balance again but fell forward. I let out a shriek as I fell into the tub, splashing water everywhere, and scattering all of the rose petals into the tub, turning the water into a sea of red. 

I heard a great boom and thud as I sat up in the tub, sputtering, and pushing my hair out of my face. What met my eyes was not to my liking. There, in the entrance of the small chamber stood a man. He looked frozen in shock, staring at me, and I stared back. I seemed to be doing a lot of staring today. He looked like a younger version of Aragorn! Brown, wavy hair. Dark, gray eyes. Muscular build. Wearing strange clothes. He was pretty cute too. It seemed that he had broken down the door to get in. That must have been what the thud was. But I was only on freeze mode for a second. Being acutely aware my nakedness, though I realized that all of the rose petals I had spilled was probably covering it but not caring, I grabbed whatever was nearest to me, which happened to be a bar of soap, and with a loud yell of "PERVERT!" threw it at him with all my strength. It hit where I had aimed, right in the family jewels. I did mention I was good at knife-throwing didn't I? So soap wasn't really a knife, but hey, same theory. I saw his face contort in pain as staggered out of the entrance to the chamber. 

I sat in the tub, whose water was about one fourth of the way gone. I was in shock. Everything seemed to be catching up with me. I had no clue where I was, if I was dead or insane or who knows what else, there were LOTR look-a-likes everywhere, and, and—_This_ isn't working_, I thought, _I'm officially going insane.__

I tried to calm myself down. Assuming that I _had somehow gotten into Middle Earth, and all the characters _were_ here… well that wasn't good either._

That would mean that I had tried to pull an Elven prince's ears off and chucked soap at a future king. 

Shit.

Don't I just make wonderful first impressions? 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Done! This would've been longer, but I have no more time. It's late. Ok, so this was a crappy chapter, but o well. Oh, and in the last chappie, all that stuff about dragonlance belongs to Margaret weis and tracy hickman. Not to me. **Questions: IF YOU IGNORE MY COMMENTS AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF THE STORY, HOW OLD WOULD YOU THINK MY WRITING SOUNDS LIKE? AND DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT PEOPLE IN MIDDLE EARTH USE TO GO TO THE RESTROOM? AND ANY SUGGESTIONS ON WHAT TO HAPPEN NEXT? I HAVE A FEW IDEAS, BUT THEY'RE VAGUE. AND REVIEW PLEASE!!!**

Lady of the Dark: u go to Harvard? Ur learning old English? Cool!

MiraiXenia18: thanx for answering my questions!

Finevere: Yes, I did. It was an excellent series. Luved vanyel! 

The Majestic Moose: Yes, I love dragonlance! I have the book the soulforge but I haven't read it yet. Right now, I'm reading the war of souls trilogy. I'm on the second book but I can't figure out if mina's a bad person or good yet! My favorite characters is raistlin too! He's sooooooo cool! But I love tas! He's adorable!

And for who asked what flames are: they're basically reviews saying I hate your story. They don't give any constructive criticism and personally attack the author. Sorry, but I can't find the review that asked me this.


	9. Chess is the Game, Life is the Stage

**The Art of Deception**

OMG U GUYS!!!!!!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY THAT THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG!!!!!!!! BUT I WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BUSY WITH SCHOOL AND SCHOOL ACTIVITES AND STUFF THAT I HAD ABSOLUTELY NO TIME TO UPDATE!!!! But I have not given up on this story even though I have a kinda writers block right now. I'm very flattered that y'all think I write well for someone my age… very very flattered. I luv u guys!!! U reviewers rock!!!

Disclaimer: don't own LOTR… too tired….

Well, I'm majorly sleepy right now and my parents are gonna get mad at me for being up so late so I gotta go… enjoy! (even though it's not really a chapter)

**Chess is the Game, Life is the Stage**

The room was dim, with only a few candles lighting the area above a table. A concealed figure sat on a luxuriously soft chair in front of the table. His face was completely shadowed by the hooded robe he wore, a robe that was black in color. He seemed a normal person, perhaps a middle-aged man, well-built and sturdy. But every once in a while, the candles would flare, illuminating eyes as black as the night. Those were eyes devoid of any emotion, containing both nothing and everything. The man standing next to him, Plaskos, would shiver whenever he caught a glimpse of those eyes, the only sign of who the hooded man truly was. 

Plaskos always made sure never to gaze deeply into those eyes. He knew that if he did, he would forever be lost in them, forever swimming in the black depths of everything and nothing, that which no mortal is ever destined to see. The black-robed man—was he a man? Plaskos did not know though he had been serving this man his whole life—sat silently, gazing at the game spread out in front of him. No, he was not playing a game with Plaskos. The game he played was deadly. One wrong move meant death, or even worse for him, failure, failure to reach the goal he had been working for all of his dark, outlawed life. 

The game he was gazing steadily at with those eternal, black eyes was called chess. It was from a planet called Earth, inhabited by humans only. Plaskos thought that this was rather strange. Most of the other planets he had visited or heard of with his master, the robed man, contained many different races—elves, dwarves, dragons, faerie folk, and many other species that he could not remember the names of. This planet had only humans. Had everyone else died out? Or was this the way it was supposed to be? But he didn't have time to ponder these questions, for at that moment, the robed man spoke. 

He spoke softly but his voice was chill and deadly, like an assassin's blade pressed against one's throat. It gave Plaskos the shivers. "Tell me, Plaskos. What was this game called again?" 

"Chess, my Lord." Plaskos answered nervously. His master's voice had always had the effect of making him feel like a cornered rabbit. 

"Ah… yes. Chess. And what planet is it from?"

"Earth, my Lord. The planet where only humans live." Plaskos was even more nervous now. He knew that his lord knew the answer to all of these questions. So why was he asking them? To test him? His lord was not one to speak idly or for enjoyment. 

The robed man watched his servant squirm with amusement. Plaskos's mind could not possibly comprehend what he, his master, was. And all for the better. For if he truly knew, he might've gone insane. "Earth…" the name trailed off into a whisper as the robed figure tested it, letting it roll off his tongue. But no matter. The planet was not important. The game was. He was silent for a while, thinking.

"My Lord?" Plaskos questioned, a tremor in his voice.

The cloaked figure snapped out of his thoughts, feeling faintly annoyed. But the feeling was quickly suppressed. One could not expect any better from a mortal, or even an immortal at that. "Yes, yes… where was I? Right, chess. It's a very amusing game, really. I'm surprised humans could've developed something like this." There was scorn in his voice, as there always was when he talked about any race. It seemed that he felt that he was above all of them. The chess board before him was set up in the usual chess manner, kings, queens, bishops, knights, etc. covering both sides of the board. 

"Now, look closely, Plaskos." the Lord bid. The servant leaned closer to the table to see the board more clearly. "We start out with both sides intact. Two players, maneuvering their own little armies. Now, let us say that I am the king of the black pieces. Both players move their pieces, placing them strategically to trap the other player, to trap his king."

The pieces moved magically by themselves as he spoke. Plaskos watched in fascination as they hovered over the board, moving to different squares of the black and white board before landing again. The cloaked man saw this fascination, and a small, scornful smile played around his lips. How easily mortals were amazed! He spoke again, "But here, I shall bend the rules of chess a bit. Let us say that the opponent's forces are wiped out, leaving only one left." With a wave of his hand, the pieces on the other side of the board suddenly shattered into fragments. Plaskos, with a small yelp, leapt backwards to avoid getting hit by the shards of wood. "Now, Plaskos," the robed man said, amusement evident in his voice. "You musn't be so jumpy. Come here." He beckoned. Unwillingly, Plaskos bent forward again.

One piece remained on the board, a small, white pawn. "Ah…yes." the Lord murmured. "The pawn is left. The pawn…" he trailed off, lost in thoughts.

"My Lord?" Plaskos inquired.

Once more, the Lord broke out of his thoughts. "Yes…the pawn. Now that we have destroyed all of its kin and court, it comes to us to seek revenge." Another wave of the hand caused the small, wooden figure to drag itself forward a few spaces, slowly, almost as if in pain. "But now it reaches the middle of the board. It settles down for a while, waiting, trying to shut the flow of memories of its friends and family. It befriends others but finds itself becoming too close to them. It seeks escape." Now the pawn hovered over the board, in the air, as if in indecision. "But where to escape to?" the Lord continued. "There is nowhere left to go. It uses desperate measures." He gestured again. A tiny whirl of rainbow lights appeared in front of the pawn. "It builds a portal through time and space. Unknown to it, that portal is the way across the river, across the river into the hands of the enemy king. It knows the dire consequences of such an action, but desperation clouds out all else. Desperation… and grief. But wait. The portal disappears. The pawn has made a mistake in the casting of the spell. Someone else enters."

"Would that someone else be important, my Lord?" Plaskos questioned.

"No, no," the hooded figure said, sounding a bit annoyed at the interruption. "The person is a mortal. She might be important to others but not to me. No, I have only one adversary. The pawn will now proceed in a search for its precious portal, all the while berating itself for making such a mistake. The game stands still. We will wait to see what happens."

The Lord was silent. Plaskos stood next to him, also quiet. One of the candles sputtered, wavering as if greedily ate up the last few drops of wick left. One by one, the candles died, until they were plunged into darkness. Still, servant and master were both silent, the master lost in his own thoughts and plans, the servant nervously waiting.

Time flowed on.


	10. Chapter Nine: Guard Duty

**The Art of Deception**

Disclaimer: don't own LOTR

**Chapter Nine: Guard Duty**

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * Legolas's POV * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **

Though it had been late, the dining hall had been crowded, as usual. Elves sat around, eating, laughing, and joking around with their friends. Elves of nobility, warriors, commonfolk—all relaxed and forgot about their stations in the dining hall as they chatted with friends. 

In the winter, most of the Elves inhabiting Mirkwood came to the caves, to the immense, underground palace of my father. Some preferred to face the cold and stay above ground, as they could not stand being underground for any large amount of time. The place was large enough to accommodate those who came and even more. It had been built to hold the people and endure sieges. We came every winter to make sure the palace stayed intact, clean, and ready to be inhabited in case of any attack. The darkness had been spreading. Lord Elrond and his company had arrived in autumn, causing more Elves than usual to stay in the palace during the winter. Many met with old friends from Rivendell; some made new friends. All in all, negotiations seemed to be going pretty well.

The topic most were talking about these days was the move back above ground. We were a little late about it this year. Spring had already begun to spread itself among the land while we were still here, underground. The Equinox* would come soon. We would be celebrating it in just a few more weeks. Many Elves had yearned to go above as soon as possible but stayed out of respect for Lord Elrond and my father. But no matter. We would be leaving soon; preparations were already being made, packing and such. I was but one of the many that longed to see the sky and trees again. 

But today, as I sat down along with Aragorn, there was a new topic of conversation: the strange silver-haired girl that one of the orc-hunting parties had brought in with them. I wondered how the news had spread so fast. My gaze strayed over to a particularly noisy table where a young elf was talking loudly to his friends. Suppressing a groan, I answered my own question. Calel. Of course. He was young, in Elven terms at least, only a century or so. He was also the biggest gossip in Mirkwood. I had never met such a talkative elf! However, he was gaining in skill in the weaponry and had accompanied us on our orc hunt. _By the Valar, I thought, __he must have told everyone! Others were crowding in around Aragorn and me, recognizing us as those who had also been there. They eagerly waited for us to tell what had happened, who the girl was, and basically any more details that we could recall._

I didn't know why everyone was so interested. Maybe it was just because of her hair color. The only other I had heard of, not met, that had that hair color was Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien. But he was a powerful Elf-lord; uniqueness was to be expected of him. And from what I had heard from my hunting party, even his hair was not quite so bright as this young human's. Perhaps it was just the natural curiosity of the Elves. _Or perhaps, I thought ruefully, __we have just been shut underground too long, locked away from the rest of the world for the most part. _

Aragorn, sitting beside me, looked a little hesitant, unsure whether to tell or not. He glanced uncertainly at me. Normally, he was not so unsure, but he was not in his own home. This was my father's realm, and things were different. I gave him a barely perceptible nod, but he caught it and launched into the story. I guess that it couldn't hurt. After all, she was only a young woman with strange colored hair. And it wouldn't do any good to try to keep it a secret now anyway, not after Calel blabbed the whole thing out to everyone within hearing range.

Questions were coming at me and Aragorn from all sides. With a sigh, I resigned myself to tell everything, or mostly everything, I knew about the silver-haired girl. _This is going to be a long night_, I thought as three questions interrupted me after I had finished the first two sentences.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

After leaving the dining hall, I walked wearily toward my quarters. It was past one o'clock in the morning, and I was tired. If anyone asked another "So who is this girl? I heard that she has silver hair" I would probably burst. I had patience—quite a lot in human terms, not quite so much in Elven terms. We Elves of Mirkwood were not known for our patience, and we knew it. That could be left to the Elves of Lothlorien or Rivendell. 

A burst of laughter echoed in the stone hallways. Some were still up. These days, no one cared much about when to sleep; we didn't need that much anyway. Aragorn and most of the other Men would be in bed by twelve, but Elves stayed up far later. However, I was wearied from the continuous days of hunting orcs. A sigh escaped me. I longed to see the stars. On these dark nights, when I had time alone to brood over my thoughts, I always longed to feel the light of the stars shining on my face. I could feel them, of course, hovering on the edge of my senses. Nature whispered to me, whispered comforting, soothing words of peace and joy. But it was but a shadow of what it was above ground. I would be very glad when we returned to the woods above.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a small scream. In an instant, I was alert, scanning the passageway and doorways of rooms around me for who might have screamed and why. I got the answer to my questions very quickly. A human serving woman came bursting out of one of the rooms farther down the hallway. _The room where the girl is staying_, I realized. A look of panic and fear was on her face. She had been left to watch over the girl in her sleep and alert one of the healers if there were any changes in her condition. The silver-haired young woman came after. 

I halted as I saw her. _She should not be out of bed so soon_, I thought, frowning. I walked quickly forward to escort her back to her room. What I saw made me freeze in my tracks. As I had approached, her head had turned towards me. But her eyes were strangely empty and glazed, as if in a trance. In fact, how she was now reminded me of the Elven sleeping trance. But she was not an Elf. Slowly, she raised one arm (the other was in a cast) and began to take slow, halting steps forward. Her hand felt the air around her. She resembled one who had just gone blind and did not know what to make of it yet. 

For a moment, I just stood there, dumbfounded. She seemed asleep, yet she was walking and her eyes were open! But the shock lasted only a moment. The next, I was hurrying forward, gently taking hold of her hands and leading her back into her room. She made no effort to resist me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the frightened servant. She looked like she was scared out of her wits. Then again, I might be too if I had seen my charge walk out of her bed with her eyes wide open while still seemingly asleep. "Go and get Lord Elrond," I ordered, though in a gentle tone of voice. She gave a small, frightened nod and sped off quickly, as if she would rather be anywhere than here.

I continued leading the girl back to her room. Her hands were calloused, as if she had either done much work or had been trained in the use of a sword. I considered the former more likely. Many Men tended to look upon females as incompetent, not suited to doing anything other staying at home doing the cooking and cleaning. And here was a young woman, surely no older than fourteen years of age. _Perhaps a maid_, I wondered. I led her over to her bed, and she lay down on it by herself. I felt relieved. I did not particularly know what to make of the situation. I sat down in the chair the maid had been using and proceeded to wait for Lord Elrond.

But only moments later, the girl sat up again. It happened so quickly that I almost jumped backwards. Once again, the large, unseeing eyes—_grey eyes, I thought—turned towards me. She stood and began to walk again. She was muttering something under breath, too soft for humans to hear, though I heard every word. But I did not recognize the language. It was all just nonsense, gibberish to me. Patiently, I let her continue her trek until she was at the doorway before beginning to lead her back again. I sincerely hoped that Lord Elrond would be here soon._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

I yawned tiredly. I had been up all night, watching over the girl. I had been allowed to sleep, of course, since even in sleep I would be able to detect it if she rose to get up, but it had not been very restful. The girl seemed to get up every time I had begun walking the Elven dream-paths! 

Lord Elrond had come soon after, accompanied by my father once again, to my surprise. I did not know that they stayed up so late discussing political issues. Lord Elrond had quickly diagnosed his patient as a 'sleepwalker.' He said that she was still asleep, but the dreams that haunted her mind took the form of physical action. It was very uncommon but not unheard of in humans. I had suggested afterwards that we post a guard other than the royal maids, since they would probably be scared senseless. 

My father had been growing increasingly disapproving during this conversation. He did not have a very high opinion of humans and seemed to consider this girl more trouble than she was worth. He had said that it would not be necessary. I had argued with him about it, bringing up the arguments of "what if she walked all around the castle, scaring people?" and "she might hurt herself," though I don't think her cared very much about the latter. In the end, my father, being the kind of person he is, placed me in charge of the girl. He had said that since I had brought her here, she was my responsibility, and I would have to take care of her. I had not even tried to argue. My father had had that stubborn look on his face, and nothing I could have said would have changed his mind. And so I was appointed guard duty.

I yawned again. I hoped that she would wake up soon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

I stumbled into the waking world at an extremely hard tug to my ears. Elven ears are very sensitive so this hurt a lot more than it would to a human. With a rather undignified yelp of pain and surprise, I jumped backward, knocking over the chair. I rubbed at my eartips, extremely glad that no one had seen a prince of Mirkwood jump like a startled rabbit just because someone had pulled on his ears. 

It was now the seventh day since the girl had arrived, and I had been on guard duty every day. Lord Elrond had not considered this very unusual but had said that she would wake up soon. Now that she was awake, I took a good look at her. She was a small figure but lithe, sitting on the bed like that. Her left cheek was covered by a large, purple but fading bruise. Twigs, leaves, and other assorted items stuck out of hair that was silver in color, the same hair that had made others so curious. No one had tried to bathe this girl while she was in a healing sleep, afraid of waking her up and disrupting the process. Her skin still had some fading bruises on them but was rather pale underneath. Large, crystal gray eyes inhabited a small, pointed face. Her left arm was up in a cast, and she cradled it awkwardly. Even so injured, there was still an air of innocence around her, almost like that of a child. The eyes that gazed at me were full of surprise and astonishment, not the slyness and cunning that my father would have expected.

She opened her small mouth as if to begin speaking but then broke off as she began to cough. The sound made me realize that I had been staring and stirred me into action. I seized the cup of water on a small table next to the bed and handed it to her. She looked up at me with those wide, innocent eyes and accepted it gratefully. She drank greedily—_well, she has not had water properly in a week, I thought—and then turned her gaze towards me again. She began to speak, but she spoke in a tongue I did not recognize. It was fast but smooth. My confusion must have shown on my face because she halted suddenly in her jumble of words._

I attempted to communicate, trying Sindarin first, though I doubted she knew the language. "_Lle__ rangwa amin?" **Do you understand me? **_

Obviously, she did not, gazing at me with confusion. She spoke again, in a seemingly different tongue than before. She was trying to communicate as well. But, once again, I did not recognize the language. I spoke in every tongue I knew, from Sindarin to Common, but she did not understand any of it. That was strange. I had met no one that did not know Common! Apparently, she was also trying several different languages, though I recognized none of them. I certainly did not know all of the languages on Middle Earth, but I was certain that I could recognize them. But this girl had spoken in not tongue that I had ever heard. By the expression on her face, she was equally frustrated and confused.

Disturbed by this news, I quickly made an excuse and left, walking quickly to fetch Lord Elrond. This matter had to be seen to.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So you say that she does not understand any of the languages you spoke, not even the Common?" Lord Elrond asked, furrowing his brow.

"Yes," I replied. "She seemed to be speaking in several different languages as well in order to try to communicate, but I did not recognize any of them."

"That is very strange," my father spoke, frowning.

"I know, _Ada. That is why I think that you should come see her with me, Aragorn as well for he is well-traveled." I replied._

"Yes, of course," Lord Elrond said vaguely, as if deep in thought.

"Well," my father spoke reluctantly, "if Elrond is going, then I should too." I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was _not looking forward to this. _

We set off down the hall.

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * Aragorn's POV (third person)* * * * * * * * * * * * **

He had been strolling down the hall, whistling cheerfully. Aragorn had had a good night's rest and was now heading on his way to visit Legolas and check up on the silver-haired girl. She was a mystery, that one. Aragorn felt rather sorry for Legolas right now. From what he had heard about the girl's night roamings, he had not had a good night's sleep, not that he needed it as much as Aragorn would have, in many days. He hoped that she would wake soon, for Legolas's sake and that of curiosity.

He reached the room and began to push the door open. It wouldn't budge. Aragorn frowned. That was strange. Why would Legolas bar the door? But before he had a chance to call out to his friend to see if anything was wrong, a shriek followed by a loud splash came from inside. The shriek had been feminine. Aragorn's quick-thinking brain quickly surmised that Legolas was probably not there and that the shriek must have come from the girl. The splash… was someone attacking her? Alarmed at the notion, Aragorn threw his weight against the door. It gave a little. He did it twice more and the door burst open.

At once, Aragorn was alert and ready to fight his enemy with his small dagger. He saw no one. Seeing a pool of water leaking out from the bathing chamber, he rushed towards the doorway… and froze in shock. The girl with silver hair was sitting in the bathtub, spluttering. Rose petals covered the water and her body, while a large puddle was quickly spreading across the floor. Now Aragorn realized that she must have fallen into the tub. He began to recover from the shock of seeing a young woman in a bathtub and the thought to hurry away before she saw him began to form in his befuddled mind. 

Unfortunately, she saw him at that moment. For a moment, she seemed to freeze too, and they stared at each other for a second. Aragorn had only the time to take in the innocent air of her look before a cry rent the air and he saw a bar of soap flying towards him. He had not time to leap out of the way, and the soap struck him right in the groin. His face twisting a little at the pain, he staggered out of the doorframe before she could throw any more objects at him. 

Aragorn stumbled out into the hallway and sat down, trying to recollect what had just happened. The only clear thought he had was, _she throws hard!_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

OMG THAT CHAPTER WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOOO CRAPPY!! I hate it! AAH die die chapter!!!! Ugh… I am soooooooooooooooo sorry if you're disappointed by that chapter, but I have sorta a writer's block and I haven't update in so long that I thought for now speed was needed… I promise that I will update sooner this time!!! But I had to get this up tonight or else it wouldn't have come till next week cuz I'm busy tomorrow. Well, questions: HOW OLD WAS ARAGORN IN LOTR? ALSO, I'M CONSIDERING MAKING MAJOR MAJOR REVISIONS TO LEGOLAS'S FAMILY. THE IDEA OF HIM BEING THE ELDEST SON DOESN'T REALLY SIT RIGHT WITH ME… I'M CONSIDERING COMPLETELY TAKING OUT GALELAS AND TOTALLY REARRANGING THE FAMILY. WHAT DO U GUYS THINK? ALSO, SHOULD I MAKE LEGOLAS'S MOTHER ALIVE OR DEAD IN THIS STORY? OOOH, AND HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GET FROM RIVENDELL TO MIRKWOOD?? SOMEONE SAID ONE MONTH, I THINK.

I'M SO GLAD THAT MOSTLY EVERYONE HATES GEOMETRY!!!!!!!! IT JUST MAKES MY DAY!!!!!!!

Dragonlet: Yes, I loooooooooooooove the Rhapsody series!!!! I introduced them to my friend at school and she likes them too but I haven't found anyone else who's heard of it yet!!! YAY! U have!!! Elizabeth haydon is such an awesome writer!!!  ^_^  btw, glad u like my ficcie 

Lady of the Dark: oooo, do I see eminem? Yes I do!!! I luv eminem!!!! He rocks!!! He's kinda a mini obsession with me right now…

LadyTremere: OMG U'VE MET MARGARET WEIS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! COOLNESS!!!!! I would looooooooooooove to meet her! Lucky you!!! And she's critiqued your work?!?!?!?!??! MAJOR COOLNESS!!!!!! Wow, I bet u write really well don't you? Ok, now I feel totally amateur( is that how u spell it?) doesn't molten just mean like melted? Dunno… maybe liquid would be more accurate…

Miss Save the Squirrels: cool! Squirrlies!!! LoL

The Majestic Moose: I finished it! The ending was… interesting. Well I won't say anything to ruin it for u! glad u thought my chappie eight was funny!

KindCalypso: I wish I was good at geometry… unfortunately, I suck at it and my teacher isn't making it any easier either

JadeGoddess: I learned that Westron, or Common, is NOT the same as English… besides, a language barrier is interesting to write about… I always wondered what would happen if they couldn't understand each other. lol   

Muriel: yes I have!!! They were really good!!!! 

Deortheod: I hate trigonometry too!!!!!! Even tho we're just learning a teeny tiny bit in geometry right now.. ugh… sine cosine and tangent… too many decimals!!! And I completely totally hate proofs too!!!!!! When are we ever gonna use this in life anyway?

Starshines: Common, or Westron, is NOT the same as English! That's why they can't understand each other.


	11. Chapter Ten: Speculations and Observatio...

**What You See…**

OMG U GUYS!!!!!!!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! My only excuses are that school has been so busy this month—too many projects, tests, quizzes….also, we had itbs testing!!! So I'm really sorry… hope this chapter was worth the wait!!!

P.S. war has started! Tho I'm sure y'all kno that…hope it doesn't get too dirty!!! Hope our troops get back safely!!!

Disclaimer: I own everything, Leggy, Aragorn, Elrond, LOTR as a whole! U kiddin' me? Do u think I would be typing this fic if I owned LOTR? Ru insulting me by saying I look like an old man who's dead?

*……..* means words spoken in Elvish (Sindarin to be more exact)

_italics_ means thoughts or emphasized words

**Chapter Ten: Speculations and Observations**

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Aria's POV * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Control. 

It was something that everyone strived for. Everyone strove to be calm, cool, collected in tense or dangerous situations. Control meant power. Why did so many want power in the world? Power meant control, control of others. 

Control was everything.

I was not different from anyone else. I liked to be the one in control of the situation. I liked to be the one in control. Now, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not some greedy tyrant who wants to rule the world. I just felt more comfortable when I knew all sides of the story and what everyone was playing at. But right now… that was not happening.

I resisted the urge to scream or throw something. Panic had begun to settle in rapidly after I had chucked soap at the Aragorn look-alike. When I had woken up, everything had happened so quickly that I had not had the time to really think about it. Now that I did, what was going on was not making any sense to my mind. There were _Lord of the Rings_ look-alikes walking around everywhere! Was I going insane? Was I dead? Was this some kind of huge practical joke? Some kind of new, strange training program set up by my parents? Was I… in Middle Earth? The last option seemed impossible… and yet so likely at the same time.

I was still in the bathtub, sitting in the exact same position I had been after I had thrown the bar of soap. To give myself some physical activity to do while my mind tried its best to figure out these complicated riddles, I began to try to clean out my hair. Key word there: try. As I pulled sticks, twigs, and leaves out of my hair, the gears of my brain were in whirling rapidly. I decided to examine each of my theories carefully. Dreaming was immediately ruled out. 

Dead… well, do people hurt when they're dead? Do they feel anything at all? Maybe I was dead and I just didn't know it. I had not clue. It was strange to think about the fact that I might be dead. I did not feel any emotion about it except for a vague melancholy. Stopping in the process of pulling stuff out of my hair, I looked at my hand. It was small. I had always had small hands. I clenched my hand into a fist. My sharp nails dug into my skin, making slight impressions. I made the mental note to look for fingernail clippers later. No, I could not be dead. Death would surely be different. Another option ruled out. 

Practical joke? I remembered this TV show I had heard about—what was it called again? Oh right, the Jamie Kennedy Experiment. I had never seen it but from the commercials, it was a show in which someone was set up and there were hidden cameras everywhere. But surely if I were on that show, they would not have gone to such extents. I mean, a few giant killer spiders were a bit overboard, don't you think? Plus, those ears had been real. No one would superglue a fake ear to their real one just for a hidden camera show. Ok, so this was not some big practical joke.

It was possible that this was some whole new regime for training that my oh-so-lovable parents had thought up. Hell, they've done strange things in the past before. For three days straight in a row, they had made me think about closing door with my mind. _Picture slamming a door...I had wondered then if my parents were insane. Then again any parents who were like mine must have strange workings of the mind.  I had not complained though. Anything was better than another day of training. I gave this possibility some serious consideration. Some sort of new test to see how I would fare under new and unexpected conditions? No, it couldn't be my parents. They would not have let me rest so long or let me take a long bath. Plus, it did not explain the _Lord of the Rings_ look-alikes. _

And so I was left with two more options that I could think of: I was either insane (or heading that way) or I had someone landed in Middle Earth. The latter seemed so… I don't know, ridiculous, impossible—I couldn't even think of the words to describe it! There was no such place as Middle Earth. It was only a world made up by J.R.R. Tolkien, a fantasy story! It did not _exist_. People carried around copies of the books and movies, for Christ's sake! Yet, it all seemed so _real_! So wonderful and vivid, so strange yet beautiful. I would not completely rule out this option yet. I was a firm fantasy book worshiper… I could stretch my imagination a little bit.

The last option… insanity. Perhaps right at this instant, I was locked up in some room pretending to take a bath and untangle my hair. Perhaps this tub I was seemingly in was only an illusion, something a twisted mind had created. Perhaps some portion of my brain had gone out during my fall. I shuddered. I did not want to be an insane person. I had visited an asylum once, and it had not been pretty. Oh, the psychiatrists were nice enough and patient enough with the patients, but looking at each of them, locked up in their rooms had given me the shivers. It was like a prison. They were imprisoned in their own minds. I had pitied them. What wonders, or horrors, could they see in their minds that we could not? Were the insane truly crazy? Perhaps they were the ones who truly saw the real way of the world, the true scheme of things. Perhaps they saw everyone as they really were. Or perhaps I think too much. Philosophy was just too complicated.

 I had seen a man be put in a straight jacket, struggling and yelling about how the chickens were all banding together and were going to destroy us all. I didn't want to be one of those people. Panic began taking over again. What if I was crazy and I couldn't wake up from it? What would happen to me? A sharp pain gave me an anchor, brought me upwards from that sea of uncertainty and panic, allowed me to breathe the sweet air of calm again. I had been pulling my hair too hard. 

I continued untangling, though more carefully now. I was almost done. So I had come down to two conclusions: crazy or Middle Earth. For the time being, just because I needed to have some distinct impression of where I was, I decided to believe the latter. It was by far the more appealing choice. Besides, if I believed the first one I would probably end up driving myself crazy anyways. 

Finally finishing with my hair, I rubbed this liquidy thingie which looked like shampoo (or at least I hoped it was) in it. I quickly finished the rest of my bath and quickly climbed out. I did not want anyone else to intrude while I was naked. Grabbing a towel, which was amazingly soft, I wrapped it around my body. It was so long that it reached my ankles, very fluffy too. Taking another, shorter one, I wrapped it around my hair, though a bit awkwardly since I couldn't use my left arm properly. 

My hand brushed my ear as I brought it back down. My earrings! _Shoot!_ I thought. _I should probably take them out. They're probably all dirty. I don't want to get an ear infection, after all! Once again, this took a while, handicapped as I was by my broken arm. It was becoming very annoying, but then again, I supposed that it was healing well enough. Those that I had seen at school with broken arms had taken weeks to heal. _How long have I been here anyways?_ I wondered. _And where did they put my old clothes? And my watch?_ I couldn't remember if I had put anything in my pockets. _Well, anything from the 21st century would help me regain a sense of reality right now,_ I thought ruefully._

I strolled cautiously back into the main room. No one was there. The table I had pushed in front of the door was pushed away and the door was wide open. That guy had broken the door down! I closed the door again, though this time I did not push anything in front of it. I would just have to be more alert. 

 Carefully, I set my earrings, small diamond ones, down on the table next to the bed. I resisted the urge to lie down on the bed and just go to sleep. My wounds were affecting me more than I thought they would. I was feeling slightly lightheaded from standing so much. Looking at the bed with longing, I suddenly shuddered. Did I really want to sleep? No, I wanted to rest. Sleep did not seem to bring rest. I had been dreaming again, and the dreams were not pretty. I wondered if I had sleepwalked. I probably had since sleepwalking usually accompanied those disturbing dreams. Hopefully, I had not frightened anyone.

I looked around the room for clothes or a closet or something. There was a door other than the entrance into this room on the wall to the far left. Walking over to it, I opened it cautiously and peered in. A swarm of color met my eyes—blue, green, red, gold—the closet was filled with dresses! I peered at them in wonder; they were all so beautiful! Silken dresses, dresses with intricate designs, dresses that seemed to be made out of light and air. Okay, so I admit it. I did have sort of a weakness for pretty things. I'm not the whole girly-girl, but I did enjoy the finer things in life (which I did not get very often). So a room full of dresses looking like they were made for princesses delighted me as they would any other normal girl. 

I really hoped that they were _not for me, though. For one thing, while I would love to try them on, I would feel extremely embarrassed wearing something so elegant. I had a mental picture of me in a frilly pink silk dress and shuddered at the image. God, I would die of embarrassment. Those were dresses fit for queens, not high school girls. It as like those situations at the mall where you see the cutest top you're dying to get, but you know it won't fit you. But you want to try it anyways and when you do and you end up looking just as horrible as you thought you would, you feel so utterly ridiculous and would rather die than have one of your friends catch you like that. Exact same feeling, except the humiliation would be ten times as worse because if I were caught, it would be by strangers who would undoubtedly laugh at me behind my back._

Flipping through the multicolored dresses, I searched for something more fitting for me to wear. I found nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada. There were only dresses in that closet. So, resigned to looking like a fool in something totally unfit for me (though I was secretly hoping to maybe try a few on before anyone could see me in them), I browsed through the dresses, looking for something simple. Settling on a light blue gown that didn't have so many delicately woven designs etched on it, I pulled it out. 

Though I would have died rather than admitted it to anyone, I was itching to try the thing on. Hey, who says I can't be feminine? I held it against my body, trying to picture how foolish I would look (though I was secretly hoping that it wouldn't turn out too bad). It was about six inches too long. Damn. With a sigh, I put the soft gown back and searched for something that would fit and would not make me look like a half-starved peacock. 

After about five minutes of searching through the hoard, I gave up. All of them were too long! I hate being short. These dresses were made for women who were at least 5'8 or so. Damn my height. I looked at my bare shoulders. I had to find something to wear! If someone walked into the room right now (like that hot blonde-haired guy), I wouldn't want to greet them only wearing a towel. _Not that they would be able to understand me if I greeted them,_ I thought. _They probably think I'm crazy already, which I might be. A madwoman, gabbering gibberish in a towel! _

As I thought about what to do, an idea struck me. I went back to the little bathroom and grabbed another clean towel. Draping it across my back, I tied it firmly into a knot at the front, a rather large and crude knot. Now I looked like I was wearing a fluffy tube dress with a fuzzy white shawl-like thingie combined with a ball of fuzz at my chest where the knot was. Great. Oh well, it was better than nothing.

Next step: the hair. I pulled out the towel that was holding it up and had sucked most of the water out. A sodden, damp mass fell on my back. I groaned at the thought of trying to untangle all the knots in it. I would love to say that I had hair that cascaded down my back in soft, smooth waves, always looking perfectly groomed, with not a tangle or a knot in place. 

I wish.

My hair was wavy, yes, but it was also poofy, frizzy, tangley, and whatever other adjectives there are to describe hair that just does not behave. After I took a shower, I had to blow dry it or let it dry naturally and then sleep on it so that it would retain some level of flatness the next morning. While it was in the drying process…well, let's just say that I usually resembled a silver-maned lion at that point. God, I hate my hair. Cutting it short might've been easier, but then I wouldn't be able to tie it up at all, which would annoy me even further. I wish I had straight hair. Then again, if wishes were dollar bills, I'd be a stinkin' millionaire. Ok, I'll stop ranting about hair now, but hey, in school with the 'popular girls group,' hair was something that needed to be discussed constantly, so I was used to giving a dissection about hair.

I sat down at the small vanity, where there was this sort of comb/brush thingie. Looking at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair (hey, who said I had to be the humble, modest girl—hell, I can be vain if I want to!), I decided that I looked horrible. A large bruise was covering the left side of my face and there was a small but healing cut on my forehead. Fortunately, my hair was still rather calm right now as it was still damp. I must've looked rather strange to anyone who might've poked their head into the room because I kept on wincing as I hit knots, which was about every few seconds. 

I have to say though, that I look very young and naïve. People often thought I was a lot younger than I actually was, which was useful in some cases (the teachers all liked me, which made schoolwork a lot easier) but very annoying for the most part (Lilly teased me endlessly about it). Then again, I guess that it's sort of a family trait. Johnny was a lot like that too, though he had it down a lot better than I did.

_So_, I reminded myself, _if you see anyone coming remember to look innocent. Brush your hair like it's the most important thing in the world. If you walk, watch your posture so they don't guess that you have skills in weaponry. Make noise when you walk; silence is not normal in most people. Don't shake hands with anyone or else they'll find you out. If someone takes you by surprise, do not jump up and attack the person._ Did I need to hide my skills from them though? I decided that I probably should considering that I didn't know what these people planned to do with me yet. Also, if I needed to escape, a seemingly harmless prisoner would be less heavily guarded than one who has skills with weapons. Unbidden, images of training, my parents, and Johnny came to mind. _Johnny…_

To keep my mind off the constant battle with my hair and those darker thoughts that I didn't really want to explore right now, I began to sing. Now, I won't lie to you, I don't have the clear, angelic, oh-so-beautiful singing voice that some people, like Lilly—she just has to be perfect at everything, doesn't she?—has. I could keep a tune though, and I enjoyed singing. So, I began to sing. Well, it went into the sweet, innocent young maiden routine anyways. 

* * * * * * * * Omniscient POV ( I will be including both the LOTR characters' POV and Aria's POV in this section, though both will be in third person.)  * * * * * * * * * * 

Legolas, King Thranduil, and Lord Elrond strolled down the stone halls, making their way to the healing chambers. Lord Elrond asked Legolas many questions about the strange young woman on the way. Legolas answered as truthfully as possible, though he didn't know very much. He did say, however, that she seemed to have an almost childlike innocence about her. My father dispatched a messenger to fetch Aragorn, though Legolas could tell that Thranduil thought Aragorn, a Man, would not be of any help. Prejudice of different races ran deep in Thranduil.

To their surprise, Aragorn came striding up to them in the halls as they neared the chambers of healing.

"Aragorn," Legolas exclaimed, "what are you doing here? My father just sent a messenger to get you so you could come greet our guest in the rooms of healing." Confusion showed on Legolas's face as Aragorn turned red.

"Perhaps I should not go along with you," Aragorn said uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that I have made the wrong impression on the lady." He turned even redder, if that was possible. "I'm afraid that I intruded on her while she was bathing. No," he raised his hands in self-defense as Legolas's mouth opened to speak, "I saw nothing. She was covered in rose petals."

"Spying on young ladies' baths, are we, Estel?" Lord Elrond asked amusedly. Aragorn's face now resembled a tomato.

"I did not mean to," he spoke. "For while I was on my way to visit Legolas this morning in the lady's rooms, I found that the door was barred. I thought that there might be trouble when I heard a scream and a splash, so I broke in to see if anything was the matter. However, there was nothing wrong. It seemed that the lady had fallen into the tub. Unfortunately, she saw me and…"

"And?" Legolas prompted.

"She has very good aim with soap." Aragorn said simply as an explanation. For a moment, Legolas was confused but then he saw the way that Aragorn had been walking, and he realized what he had meant. So did Lord Elrond. The two of them burst into laughter, causing Aragorn, whose face had finally returned to a normal color, to blush again. "_Ada__…" he said pleadingly, while shooting a glare at Legolas which only caused him to laugh harder. King Thranduil remained in stony silence, clearly not thinking much of Aragorn but not surprised either. He had not expected any better from a Man._

"Well," Legolas said with a grin after he stopped laughing, "you know what Arwen would say to you." At the mention of Arwen, Aragorn turned redder, though he tried to control the waves of heat spreading across his face. Legolas mimicked Arwen's voice, "Males! They're all the same! The moment they hear a lady screaming, they assume that she's in trouble and that they need to rush in and save the day." Legolas broke off, laughing again, and this time, Aragorn joined in.

"Now, young prince," Lord Elrond said sternly, "I hope you are not speaking ill of my daughter." But his eyes twinkled at the antic of the young.

"Of course not, my lord." Legolas replied with a bow, though his eyes sparkled with contained laughter. 

"Let us be on our way," King Thranduil said abruptly in a cold tone of voice. He was beginning to become impatient. They resumed walking in silence.

"What need do you have of me, Legolas?" Aragorn asked curiously as they strolled through the halls. Legolas gave Aragorn a shortened version of what had occurred, which gave Aragorn a reason to laugh as well, explaining that the lady could not understand any of the languages he had spoken and that Aragorn might know more for he had traveled across the land.

As they finally neared the room, the faint sounds of singing could be heard from within. 

I don't know

What words I can say

The wind has a way

Of talking to me

Flowers sleep

A silent lullaby

I pray for reply

I'm ready…

**(A/N: ok, I know this is distracting but u might not get how I'm doing the whole POV thingie. Right now it's back to Aria's POV for a while and then it'll switch back and forth between Aria and the LOTR characters' POV. This way I don't have to redo each scene so I can get different POVs in.)** She had begun to sing the first song that had come to mind. She had heard the song from a television show a long time ago. It was a gentle song, soft and even. 

Quiet days

Calm me

Oh, serenity…

Someone please

Tell me

Ohhmm, what is it they say?

Maybe I will know one day

The singer's voice was soft but melodic. It was not one of those angelic singing voices, but it did not sound bad either. It was not a voice that rang like clear bells and caught one up at once in a crescendo of sound, but rather a voice that was soft and soothing, though aching and melancholy at the same time. It was a voice that could be easily filled with emotion, that betrayed a love for those things of peace and calm, though none of the group understood the words.

I don't know

What words I can say

The wind has a way

Of talking to me

Flowers sleep

A silent lullaby

I pray for reply

I'm ready…

_Great, now I've gone and gotten myself all depressed_, Aria thought gloomily as she finished the song. Dark thoughts crowded her brain, begging for release. But she held them still with a will of iron, choosing instead to sing another song. It was a carefree song with a cheerful melody, though the words didn't really tell about such a cheerful story. She hummed the intro and began to sing, "Livin' my life in a slow hell, different girl every night at the hotel…I ain't seen the sun shine in three damn days… been fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey, wish I had a good girl to miss me…Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways…I put your picture awaaaaaay, sat down and cried todaaaaaay. I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to her…" She sang at the top of her lungs, dispelling all of her feelings of despair.

The group listened on as the song changed from the soft, gentle melody before to one with a very different tune. They walked in on silent feet, the silence of all Elves, and Aragorn, who had been trained by Elves, moved just as quietly. 

"Called you last night at the hotel…everyone knows but they won't tell. But their half-hearted smiles tell me something, just ain't right…been thinkin' 'bout you for a long time…fuelin' up on heartaches and cheap wine. I ain't heard from you in three damn nights…I put your picture away; I wonder where you've been…I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him…" she sang.

The young woman was sitting at the vanity, brushing the long, silver hair which fell down her back in dark and damp but still shining waves. Her left arm was held close to her body, awkwardly. She obviously was not one who broke bones very often. From what they could tell, she seemed to be healing well. She was also dressed in the strangest garments: a towel wrapped around her body and yet another one tied around her shoulders, making her look rather like a cotton ball because of the towels' fluffiness. 

"Saw you yesterday with an old friend. It was the same old same how have you been… since you've been gone my world's been…dark and gray. You reminded me of better days. I hope you were comin' home to staaay…I was headin' to church… I was off to drink you awaaaaaaaaaay…" she continued, unaware that someone was in the room with her. 

The group just stood there for a while, taking care not to step in front of the mirror and scare the wits out of the young woman, wondering if she would notice them. It soon became apparent that she wouldn't. Legolas cleared his throat. The singing was cut off abruptly by a small yelp of surprise combined with a small jump which made her trip over the chair, crashing to the ground.

She had not heard anyone coming, so when she heard the clearing of a throat, she had been so surprised that she had immediately acted on her reflexes, which was to jump off her seat and roll away, keeping low so that the enemy could no hit her. Inwardly, she was cursing herself for not noticing that someone was in the room. Then, midway through the small jump, she had remembered that this was not training. The strange and different atmosphere, so different from the noisy bustling of school or other public places, reminded her strangely of her house. Whoever had come in might have thought it strange it she had done what she was about to, so she had tried to stop it midway. That sort of worked…excluding the crashing over the chair part (luckily, she had not landed on her left arm). "Ow…" She stood up quickly (crashing over a chair was already embarrassing enough) and regretted it. Spots of bright light and darkness swam before her eyes, blocking her vision. The blood rushed to her head, making her fell dizzy and disoriented. Beginning to sway a little, she put out hand to steady herself…and met with someone else's hand, a supple yet callused hand, one that was both soft as silk yet hard as steel at the same time.

At the crash, both Legolas and Aragorn had started moving forward. But the young woman had stood up by herself, though a bit too fast. She swayed on her feet, reaching out a hand to steady herself…and Legolas, who was nearer caught it, supporting her. 

Glancing up after she could see again, she almost groaned as she saw who it was. The Legolas-look-alike. But, remembering to be polite and also remembering not to touch hands with anyone, she quickly smiled and said a hurried thank you. He seemed to get what she was saying and both he and look! the Aragorn-look-alike stepped back to where two other "Elves." An Elrond-look-alike; this was just great, and another Elf, seemingly. But she schooled her face into a mask of calm, not wanting to seem ungrateful or anything. "Hi," she said hesitantly, wondering if they would understand her. Apparently, they didn't from the looks of confusion on their faces.

*You are right, Legolas,* Elrond remarked with a frown. *It is unlike any language I have ever heard.* 

*I have never heard such a language either,* Aragorn commented, frowning a bit. He had heard most of the languages of Middle-earth from his travels. King Thranduil said nothing. His opinion of this young woman was not very high, from the way she had fallen over the chair, though it did not surprise him; all humans were clumsy compared to Elves. Also, from the way she was dressed. Didn't she have the decency to cover herself properly? Towels did not count. 

*Perhaps it is the language of some folk far away that none of us have ever seen,* Legolas suggested. 

*But how would she have ended up in Mirkwood, then?* Aragorn countered. *And who on Middle-earth would not learn the Common tongue?*

*I do not know,* Legolas replied, throwing his hands up in a gesture of defeat. He glanced over to the subject in question, who was looking at them, grey eyes wide with fascination. She was entranced by the beautiful language that these strange people were speaking. _Dang, she though, __if they taught that at school, I'd drop Spanish and take it up in an instant!  _

*Perhaps she is just a madwoman,* Thranduil remarked, eyeing the young woman with distaste. Legolas glanced at her again. She peered back at him curiously but calmly with crystal clear grey eyes—those were not the eyes of a mad person. 

Apparently, Lord Elrond agreed. *Nay,* he said, * I think not.* They all turned to observe the young woman, who stood calmly under their scrutinizing gazes, though she was squirming uncomfortably inside. 

*We should at least try to learn the lady's name,* Aragorn said. 

*Yes,* Legolas agreed. To the young woman he said slowly, in Common, "What is your name?" though he did not harbor much hope that she would understand him. She didn't. Legolas pointed to himself and said slowly, "Legolas." 

The confusion on her face cleared up as she repeated his name, "Legolas." He wondered at the fact that she pronounced his name perfectly, unlike most humans who had a hard time articulating it. In Aria's mind, she was trying to decide whether she was going crazy or not. But deciding that she would get nowhere by assuming herself mentally unstable, she pointed to herself and said clearly, "Aria." She decided not to say her full name or last name, since she would probably just confuse everyone by trying to explain the whole first name, last name, nickname thing. 

"Aria." The name flowed off Legolas's tongue like honeyed wine. One by one, the Aragorn, Elrond, and even Thranduil introduced themselves, and it seemed to them that the lady's face grew more troubled with each new name. Then silence descended as they observed each other. Lord Elrond, observing with a healer's point of view, was pleased that his patient seemed to be healing quite well, while Thranduil looked upon her with disdain and a bit of curiosity mixed in with anger as to how a young, untried woman could penetrate Mirkwood. Aragorn was hoping that the lady would forget about the whole bath incident, though he was extremely curious about one who did not speak any language he knew (and he knew many), while Legolas…well, Legolas felt an extreme curiosity and a strange tenderness toward this young stranger, wondering how she had come to be so wounded, what kind of person she was like, and those sorts of things.

Aria, meanwhile, studied them as well. She could tell, plainly, as Thranduil did not try to hide it, that the "Elf" with dark blonde hair and disapproving grey eyes did not like her. The one with who called himself Elrond radiated authority and peace… she could not tell what he thought. When they had introduced themselves, she had purposely allowed her emotions to be visible in her eyes. Normally, she would've hidden them (except for at school), but she remembered that they might think it strange if a wounded young girl who spoke a different language showed not a sign of surprise at all. They might even have thought her a spy! "Aragorn" looked upon her with an expression of mixed apprehension and curiosity. He was probably hoping that she did not remember the bathroom incident. Well, she would let that one pass. After all, it would not be good to offend her captives by yelling at them when so far, they had shown her kindness. Lastly, the one who called himself "Legolas" seemed curious but friendly. Of the four strangers, he seemed to be the one who looked upon her the most as a _person_, not as some strange, wild creature that had been captured and caged. 

But, she still had to decide whether to believe this whole "Middle-earth" thing or not. She wanted to so desperately, but the logical, reasonable part of her mind was telling her that this was literally impossible. By and by, as the four strangers continued gazing at her, she became acutely aware of the fact that she was dressed in only towels. Also, she remembered that she had tried to pull "Legolas's" ears off and had thrown soap at "Aragorn." Also, they had probably heard her horrible singing of "Picture" and had witnessed her falling over a chair. Unwillingly, she began to blush as she thought about what kind of person she must seem to them. 

The four noticed that their gazes were making the young woman uncomfortable and averted them. Lord Elrond gestured for everyone to take a seat, and they did, the young woman catching on and seating herself on the bed, perched rather tensely, as they noticed. Silence settled. Aria glanced around nervously; they all seemed to be expecting her to speak. So, clearing her throat, she began (in her "hi, nice to meet you" tone that she often used with new students at school), "Hi, my name is Aria, and no, I do not dye my hair. It's natural, believe it or not. Well, my mom and dad own the martial arts place down town, and I have a little brother called Johnny. I'm fifteen years old…" and so on. After she had told a little about herself (of which she knew that they had understood not a word), she stopped and waited for them to say something.

*That language sounds rather similar to Common." Legolas said.

*It does,* Lord Elrond remarked. *But it is far different. I could not understand anything she said.* 

*Perhaps it is a different version of common,* Aragorn suggested.

*No,* Elrond disagreed. *The nuances and inflections are different. It would take us quite a while to dissect that language.* 

*Well, what am I to do with her?* Thranduil asked impatiently. *I cannot have a girl who speaks a tongue no one knows of at my court. All will think her a madwoman!*

*I will teach her.* Legolas said suddenly.

*What?* Thranduil asked incredulously. *Legolas, were you not just yesterday complaining to me that you should not have to do such a menial task of guarding one of Lord Elrond's patients? What is this sudden change of mind?*

*I do not know, Father. But I brought her here to the palace, and so I shall be the one to take responsibility of her.* Legolas said, truly wondering why he had volunteered. Thranduil nodded his approval. He might not have thought much of the young woman, but he was pleased with his youngest son's sense of duty and responsibility. 

*It is settled then.* Lord Elrond said, pleased. *Now, we must try to explain our purposes to our mysterious enigma.* He turned to speak to her but found her asleep, her head sagging against the bedframe. Aria had been listening to their conversation but had found her eyelids drooping after a while. She felt extremely weary but forced her eyes open. It would not be very polite to fall asleep while strangers were in the room. But by and by, the soft sound of conversation seemed to turn into a lullaby and lured her off to the lands of dreamless, serene sleep. 

There was a look of blissful peace on her face, and sleep made her seem but a child. Lord Elrond's gaze softened at the innocence in this young person. He moved over to the bed and shifted her slight form into it, tucking the blankets up to her chin, like he had done with Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, and Aragorn when they were children. *Let us not disturb her.* he said, stepping silently out of the room. Everyone other than Legolas followed. 

Legolas resumed his guard, pulling up a chair near to the bed, gazing at his charge's tranquil face—wondering what in Middle-earth he had gotten himself into.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Twelve pages people!! Twelve pages!!! This is my way of saying I am sooooooooo sorry. If u thought the speculation on Aria's part about whether she was in middle earth or not was boring, sorry. But I get so tired of reading those 'girl falls into middle earth' fics where the girl seems just to accept right away that "yeah, I'm in middle earth…so what's for lunch?" Some might have a little freaking out or speculation but it's just a tiny bit and doesn't play a big role. That doesn't seem very realistic to me. Come on, seriously, think about it, if u fell into middle earth would your first reaction be "oh joy, I'm in middle earth" or "omg, I'm going crazy this is some big practical joke?" think about it. I won't do too much of it anymore tho…so for those of u who are bored, u won't have to worry about it. 

Also, the omniscient POV might've been kinda weird cuz I tried to incorporate all the characters' feelings… I don't think I did that great but hey, I had to do something. It's prolly gonna continue on in mostly omniscient cuz I don't like rewriting everything in different POVs cuz it gets really annoying. QUESTIONS FOR THIS TIME: HOW LONG WOULD IT TAKE TO LEARN A LANGUAGE IF SOMEONE SPENT LIKE EVERY DAY TRYING TO LEARN IT? AND HOW LONG WOULD IT TAKE GANDALF TO GET FROM RIVENDELL TO MIRKWOOD??? 

**BIG NOTICE: I WILL BE DOING A LITTLE REVISING NOW CUZ IN THE NEXT CHAPPIE I WILL PROLLY BE INCLUDING A FEW OF LEGOLAS'S BROTHERS, ETC. I'M CHANGING THE WHOLE FAMILY HISTORY THING, TAKING GALELAS TOTALLY OUT. I DECIDED THAT I WANT LEGGY TO BE THE YOUNGEST SON. I'M SURE THAT U GUYS DON'T WANNA REREAD A CHAPTER THO SO I'LL EXPLAIN IT ALL TO U GUYS WHEN I CHANGE IT. SO WATCH OUT FOR MY AUTHOR'S NOTES AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF EACH CHAPPIE PPLZ! I'll try to update ASAP!!!**

Now, to reply to some reviewers:

Twilight's Mysteries: I just sorta made up the disease lol. I didn't really specify what it was…then again, I don't know that much about disease so…your story sounds cool! If I ever find the time (SCHOOL IS EVIL!!!) I'll go read it. ^_^

LadyTremere: I don't mind the nitpicking, lol. I probably need it…when I find the time, I'm gonna go back and revise all those things u pointed out and some other stuff too. Glad u liked the first part, you're the only person who commented on it! And the person will be revealed…eventually. Ugh… I kno some of the language sounds modern. I have the hardest hardest time with characterization of the LOTR characters for some reason!!! Cuz u gotta correspond it with Tolkien's LOTR and it's hard to do that!!! I'm a lot better with writing my own, as I think most people are.

QueenOfTheShadows: my sentiments exactly. That chapter sucked. To tell u the truth, it annoyed me to no end but I had to have something from the LOTR characters' points of view on Aria. The chapter was gonna be longer and include some new stuff but the stuff from the characters' points of view took a lot longer than I thought. Hope u thought this chappie was better!

AnGeLiC dEvIl: *blushes* I'm very flattered. And thanx for adding me to your favorite authors and favorite stories! I'm honored. Unfortunately, my writing can't hold a candle to some of the things I've seen on this site…ugh… well no point in going and getting myself all discouraged…hope u liked this chappie!!! 

Muriel_Sol: I'll try to go read it when I find the time!!!

Shakiya: sorry for not updating for so long! Please forgive me! 

Lime green lion: glad u luv my fic! :) and sorry for not updating!!!      


	12. Chapter Eleven: Teaching and Learning

**What You See…**

**HEY U GUYS! ONCE AGAIN, I'M SO DAMN SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! BUT I HAVE BEEN BUSY WITH SCHOOL AND ALL…I KNOW, I KNOW, THEY'RE ALL EXCUSES…SOWEE! And before u go 'holy crap! That's long!' I tell u that part of it is revisions!**

**OK PEOPLES! THIS IS VERY VERY VERY VERY IMPORTANT! I HAVE DONE A FEW REVISIONS ON THE PAST FEW CHAPTERS. PLEASE GO AND READ THEM BECAUSE YOU MIGHT NOT UNDERSTAND SOME THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN THE FUTURE. FOR YOU CONVENIENCE, I WILL POST THE REVISION RIGHT HERE BEFORE CHAPTER 11. IF YOU WANT FURTHER REFERENCE TO WHAT WAS HAPPENING AT THE TIME, THOUGH, I'LL ALSO TELL YOU WHAT CHAPTER THE REVISION WAS IN AND WHERE TO FIND IT! **

**I MADE ARIA A SOPHOMORE INSTEAD OF A FRESHMAN BECAUSE I WANTED HER TO BE YOUNG AND HAVE A DECEMBER BIRTHDAY AND IF SHE HAD BEEN A FRESHMAN, IT WOULDN'T HAVE WORKED OUT. **

**FIRST CHANGE: I HAVE FINALLY DISCOVERED WHAT THE PROPER TERM FOR DOUBLE SWORDS ARE: SCIMITARS. ALSO, I AM CURRENTLY READING R.A. SALVATORE'S FORGOTTEN REALMS SO I PUT A LITTLE BIT OF THAT IN HERE…SORTA**

*******Aria's POV*****         **

My mother moved toward me, looking the same as when I first entered the room, not as if she had been almost killed just a few seconds before. She was closing the space between us. I had enough time, though, for maybe a few more arrows. I reached into my quiver to grab one. My hands closed on emptiness. _Damn!_ I thought angrily, hurling my bow and quiver aside and drawing my sword. _I knew I shouldn't have used up so all my arrows! My mother was finally close enough. She raised her sword. The sound of steel upon steel rang. We were now engaged in a series of blows and parries. My mother's strong blows upon my already weak right arm was driving me backwards, against the wall. There was no time to switch to the other arm, though. (Yes, I had been trained in the use of swords with both arms in case one became injured.) I fervently wished that I had my scimitars right now. Scimitars resembled swords, except that they were shorter and had curved edges, and both (since most people who trained in that type of weapon used two) were used at the same time, one for each arm. They were my favorite choice of weapon, and, in my opinion, I was most skilled in their use than in that of any other weapon. _

I remember that the first time my parents had given them to me as a new type of weapon to learn how to use, I had despaired. For how could I ever learn how to use a weapon for each hand that had to work in perfect harmony? It seemed impossible. But I could not deny the grace of the weapon, the spectacularly sharp edge of the blade, the perfect way the hilt seemed to fit within my hand. And it was not too heavy either, unlike some of the other weapons I had used; it was perfect for someone of my build. And eventually, I became skilled in its use. Even my parents had agreed that I had a natural talent with that weapon (which had caused my jaw to drop and me to gape like a fish for the next few minutes—since when did my parents compliment me?), and I practiced hard with it, often facing off the others who took lessons from my parents. Yes, I often sparred with them down at the studio, where my parents taught martial arts. Soon, the scimitars felt like a natural extension of me, and when I practiced with them, ignoring the true reason that I was learning any kind of martial arts, I delighted in the experience. For training in this type of weaponry was an art… a dance. There was something exquisitely graceful and defined about the whirl and swish of the scimitar, the flawless interplay of two flashing weapons, weaving in perfect unison, creating something that was song and dance, life and death—the essence of art. 

But, unsurprisingly, just as I was beginning to become a true master of the weapon, my parents stopped my training in it, as they always did when I became too used to one particular weapon. Sometimes I wondered if they were limiting my skill, if they sought to keep me from reaching my full potential…but that would be foolish, would it not? Why would they train me if they did not want me to become a true master? But that was the way it was with my parents—all questions, no answers. I probably would've just given up then, discontinued my work of scimitars and moved on to the next weapon and lost the highest point that I might've been able to reach, as I always did. But that was when I found a role model in the use of that weapon. This person was definitely the most skilled that I had ever heard anyone to be in the use of scimitars. He knew every trick there was and was undefeated in his craft. This person, or perhaps I should say drow elf, was Drizzt Do'Urden, from R.A. Salvatore's Forgotten Realms. 

Yes, it is very strange. For how could a character in a book be a role model? But to those who have a large imagination, as I do (sometimes too overactive), it was easy to imagine him real and existing. Through descriptions in the books, I could vividly picture each cut and sweep of his weapon, each perfectly executed maneuver. He was the master, the epitome of skill in the use of scimitars. And so I had my inspiration to go on. I practiced in secret, honing each thrust and swipe to perfection, creating drills and maneuvers of my own, always with a few battered library books next to me—fiction books, books about scimitars and their use, those which were my guides. That was when I was fourteen… a time when I lived half in a fantasy world and half in reality, a strange experience. I did not know what drove me to do this. I could have simply given up the craft the many times when I failed to perfect something I had been working on for days. Perhaps it was just the need to feel that I was good at something in this life, something that I would choose to be good at of my own will, not that of my parents. And so I came to love the scimitars, not for their ability to kill or slaughter, but for their eternal, mesmerizing song and dance. And I hoped that one day, I would be as good as Drizzt Do'Urden, fictional character or not, that one day I might be described by someone in the same way in my use of the scimitars.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I ran out of range for a little while, switching my sword to the other hand, which was not injured. My mother came at me again. This time, I pushed her back. I kept on pushing until this time, it was she who was pressed against the wall. For a moment I had hopes of winning this duel, but they were dashed when my father entered the scene, bearing his heavy broadsword. Now I was fighting off both of them. More than ever, I wish I had my scimitars. But just because I wished it did not mean I would get it. I tried to fend both of them off as best as I could, going on the defensive. I knew I was being backed into the wall, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

**I ADDED SEVERAL PARAGRAPHS TO THIS SECTON. THIS WAS PROBABLY MY LONGEST REVISION. AS I EXPLAINED IN MY AUTHOR'S NOTE THAT I ADDED AT THE BOTTOM, I DID NOT COPY THE IDEA OF ARIA BEING THE BEST AT THE SCIMITARS FROM SALVATORE'S CHARACTER, DRIZZT DO'URDEN. UP UNTIL RECENTLY, WHEN I BEGAN READING THE BOOKS, I DID NOT EVEN KNOW THAT THAT TYPE OF WEAPON WAS CALLED A SCIMITAR! REMEMBER, I WAS JUST REFERRING TO THEM AS DOUBLE SWORDS. BUT NOW I HAVE FINALLY FIGURED OUT THE TRUE NAME…ALSO, AS I'M CURRENTLY READING THE SERIES, I COULDN'T RESIST PUTTING DEAR OLD DRIZZIT IN THERE…HE'S COOL! AND FROM THE WAY SALVATORE DESCRIBES ALL OF HIS BATTLES, HE DOES SOUND LIKE HE'S A MASTER OF THAT PARTICULAR WEAPON. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ FORGOTTEN REALMS, YOU PROBABLY HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. FOR THOSE WHO HAVE, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! EVEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS LITTLE CHANGE, AT LEAST IT GIVES ME SOMEONE TO TALK ABOUT FORGOTTEN REALMS WITH! LOL… ^_^WELL, THIS WAS IN CHAPTER FOUR, TOMORROW NEVER DIES, A LITTLE BIT AFTER ARIA STARTS BATTLING HER MOTHER. **

**I HAVE COMPLETELY CHANGED LEGOLAS'S FAMILY. AS OF NOW:**

**LEGOLAS: YOUNGEST SON OF THRANDUIL**

**TÁNDIR: MIDDLE SON OF THRANDUIL**

**CALITH: ELDEST SON OF THRANDUIL, HEIR TO THE THRONE**

**NORITH: OLDER SISTER OF LEGOLAS, TÁNDIR, AND CALITH; THRANDUIL'S ELDEST CHILD**

**ELAVIEL AND CERRICWYN: TWIN DAUGHTERS OF THRANDUIL; YOUNGEST OF THE FAMILY**

**HERE IS THE SECTION WHERE I MADE THESE CHANGES (GIVES A FEW MORE DETAILS):**

*********Legolas's POV********

"I'm doomed!" he exclaimed theatrically, laughing. Lord Elrond, his daughter Arwen, his two sons, Elledan and Elrohir, a few more members of his household, and a group of skilled archers for protection had come to visit Mirkwood to further negotiations between the two places. Aragorn, as Lord Elrond's adopted son, had come along as well. They had been here for a while, and Aragorn and I had become fast friends, though he was a great deal younger than me. But he was a good friend and a noble man, in fact, the only Man to travel to Mirkwood for quite some time, and my sisters adored him, soon believing that all in the race of Men must be as "nice as our friend Esty." (They found the name Aragorn both too long and too hard to come up with nicknames for; they came up with nicknames for everyone. Instead, they preferred calling him different versions of Estel.) That was quite a good thing in the light of negotiations but not as good in real life. "Rather a handful" was not exactly an accurate description of Elaviel and Cerricwyn. "Crazy" or "little terrors" might be a more descriptive. They terrified most of the nursemaids assigned to them. A few had even quit, declaring that royal family or not, those two "monsters" were unmanageable. But, practically everyone who knew them loved those two, excluding any nursemaids. Identical twins with blonde hair and large, blue eyes, they were hard to resist. My whole family—Father, my eldest brother Calith, my elder brother Tándir, our sister Norith, who was older than all of us and ever our undisputed leader, and I—adored them and, I have to admit, spoiled them a bit.

**THIS WAS IN CHAPTER FOUR, TOMORROW NEVER DIES. IT'S AROUND HALFWAY DOWN LEGOLAS'S POV.**

**LAST REVISION: I MADE LEGOLAS AND TÁNDIR HAVE A SORT OF SIBLING RIVALRY…**

*********Legolas's POV******         **

The room was clean and tidy, with a canopied bed in the center. It was adequately, if not ornately, furnished and did not look like it had not been used for a long time. We always kept the rooms of healing new and spotless, just in case someone was severely wounded, which was just the case now. I placed young woman on the bed as the others lit torches and candles all around the room, illuminating it. We checked the rest of the accommodations to make sure that everything was usable. Servants brought hot water, cloths, and the rest of the things needed for healing. Lord Elrond, accompanied by my father, Aragorn, and the messenger arrived only a moment later. I almost groaned aloud as I saw that my elder brother Tándir was also with them. Things were not going well between us these days. He seemed to think me inferior to him and not experienced enough to traverse through Mirkwood, leading the orc-hunting party. I had proved my skills in weaponry many times, but he still seemed to see me as but a child. Our little conflicts had been becoming more explosive nowadays. He was always provoking me, trying to make me lose my temper and go into a fit of blind rage that would immediately label me as child. Others were beginning to notice the mounting tension between my brother and me as well, though, and often calmed us or separated us when things began to get ugly. I knew that one day we would have to settle this though. Avoiding each other temporarily did not seem to be working. 

Though I did suppress the groan, Tándir caught the expression on my face and smirked, seeing an opening for another verbal attack. "Not pleased to see me, Brother?" he asked silkily.

"Of course not, Tándir," I said, assuming an expression of innocence. Two could play at this game. "Whatever gave you that idea?" His face remained emotionless, and he did not reply, for the others in the room, very much aware of the rising conflict between us, were beginning to send us glances. 

Lord Elrond had been examining the young woman's wounds. He had asked no questions yet, though I knew they would be coming soon. He let out a small exclamation as he touched her forehead. "She is burning up with fever, and not a completely natural one at that!" He spoke in the Common, or Westron, so that those servants and healers who could not understand the Elven language would know what he said.

**AND THEN, A LITTLE BIT LATER, RIGHT WHEN EVERYONE WAS LEAVING SO LORD ELROND COULD START THE HEALING PROCESS…**

Lord Elrond continued briskly, though I could tell that he was disturbed as well, not giving the time for a flurry of questions to break out. "She has a few minor cuts that can be taken care of quickly, but I'm worried about this long gash on her leg. It is very deep and may have already become infected. It will need to be cleaned and dressed. Her arm has suffered a very bad break. I will need to set it immediately or else it will not heal in the right manner." He stopped, looking around the room. No one moved. "Well?" he asked. "We must start." At those words, everyone seemed to break out of their trances. A whirl of activity started, with the healers setting everything up for the long process of healing as everyone else was ushered gently but firmly out into the corridor. 

Some began leaving, my father being one of the first, saying that he had to attend to other matters. Those who had helped me bring the young woman to this room went next, telling me to inform them when her condition changed. Finally, Aragorn, Tándir, and I exited the room. "Ugly little thing, isn't she?"  Tándir remarked. "I mean, with those bruises and all. The only thing remarkable about her seems to be her hair color!" 

My fists clenched at my sides as I fought down anger at my brother's insensitivity and arrogance. "She was wounded; it is through no fault of hers that she looks that way. She did not choose to be in the situation she was found under. Appearances are not everything, my brother."

"I guess you would know, Legolas," Tándir said with a small sneer. "After all, you don't keep up your appearances, do you? At this rate, no she-Elf will ever fall in love with you!"

Keeping my temper in check, I replied calmly, "Is that all you ever think about, Tándir? Females and looks?" And before he could reply with some other stinging comment, I said, "You had better go, Brother. Or have you forgotten that it's your turn to watch the twins today? And I truly wish you luck," a mischievous grin formed on my face, "though I would not want to be in your position. Let's hope they do not decide that their dear older brother Tánny's (their rule for nicknames: two syllables and ends in something sounding like eee) hair has grown quite dull and that a new hairstyle is in order." Tándir scowled at me, stalking away down the hall without another word. Aragorn let out a chuckle, saying, "Legolas, you provoke your brother just as much as he provokes you!"

"What? It's true!" I said innocently. "And besides, he started it." 

Aragorn shook his head, still grinning, "You sound like your dear twin sisters when you say that." A rumbling noise filled the air. I laughed. Aragorn looked a little embarrassed but then said firmly, "Well, I'm going to the dining hall to eat because unlike you, I'm not an Elf and need more food." He began walking down the corridor, pushing me along. I let him push me, chuckling over both my small victory with Tándir and Aragorn. Thoughts of the silver-haired girl struck me, but I pushed them away, knowing that I could do nothing. So, laughing and joking, Aragorn and I made our way down to the dining hall.

**THIS WAS IN CHAPTER EIGHT, FIRST IMPRESSIONS, JUST A LITTLE BIT AFTER THE VERY BEGINNING IN LEGOLAS'S POV. I THINK THAT THOSE WERE THE ONLY MAJOR REVISIONS… I MADE A FEW MINOR ONES, BUT THOSE WERE MOSTLY GRAMMAR AND SPELLING ERRORS. THANKS FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ALL THIS, YOU GUYS! AND HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!**

*astericks* = Elvish

_Italics_ = thoughts/ emphasis/ Elvish

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Chapter Eleven: Teaching and Learning**

_Darkness.___

_It was swirling, invisible yet so palpable that it seemed to tingle within her very bones. _Where am I?_ she wondered. She couldn't see. All that was visible was the endless churning darkness. She tensed, listening for any sound. _

_Nothing.___

_She listened for several more seconds. Silence itself seemed to take on a sound—the sound of tension, of caution, of…fear. The silence continued, going on and on, seeming to stretch. Fighting the urge to scream—the silence was driving her mad—she began to walk, the cautious, silent steps of a hunter, a warrior. She did not know where she was walking; she did not even know what she was walking on! All she knew was the darkness and the silence. But then everything shifted. The blackness so thick that she could not see her own hand in front of her face became a room that was all too familiar to her._

_A training room in the five-story house.___

_Sudden light struck her eyes, blinding her for a second. Instinctively, she ducked low, closing her eyes and rolling, her hands searching for her weapons but finding none. Reopening her eyes, she found herself in a defensive crouch, still in the training room. _

_But it was empty._

_Sunlight was streaming through the open windows. _Open windows?_ she thought in confusion. They never open the windows in these rooms. Outside, birds chirped, playing a little melody of spring in their innocent, childlike joy of nature and the world outside. The scent of flowers—roses, daisies, violets, tulips; she identified each as the fragrances assaulted her—was sent into the room by a fresh breeze that teased the curtains into a small dance. Strands of silver—why is my hair loose?_ she wondered with some annoyance—blew into her face, and she brushed them away impatiently with her hand. It was a scene of bliss and harmony. Light struck the room in all corners, illuminating it, making it seem so different from its usual gloom and chill.__

_Yet one corner remained wrapped in shadows._

_She paced forward carefully, silent as ever, bare feet but a whisper of the wind on the wooden floor. A groan came from the corner. She tensed, halting in her tracks. But a sweet, gentle voice, a pain-filled, "Ari?" set her moving again. She recognized that voice._

_It was the voice of her brother, Johnny, dear, sweet Johnny. The light suddenly filled that corner of the room, as if sensing her need to see her brother. But as it did, she came to another halt, looking upon the form of her brother, her expression a mix of shock and horror._

_For it was Johnny, with his golden hair and sky blue eyes, but, oh, what had they done to him? His arms were raised by his sides, shackled to the wall at the wrists, as were his feet. The iron manacles had torn the tender flesh of his wrists and ankles, leaving deep, ugly gashes. Dried blood was crusted onto the manacles. His clothing was unrecognizable, hanging in tatters and rags about him, what part that actually came through as cloth stained reddish brown. His pale, smooth skin was marred by whipmarks, bruises, burnmarks that ran along the length of his fragile body. There were some wounds that were made by instruments specifically made for torture, some wounds that she could not bear to look at. _What have they done?_ That was the only thought that raced through her immobile mind at the moment. _

_As he tried to lift his head to meet her disbelieving eyes, a deep cough racked his frail body. He couldn't stop coughing, the cough went on and on until he was coughing up blood, blood which splattered the floor beneath him, turning it crimson…then darker and darker. Black blood. The sound, the sight, everything that was happening jerked her out of her horror. She went forward immediately to help her brother, her mind still reeling. _He needs to be taken to a hospital!_ she thought frantically. She crouched down, looking for some way to get the manacles off, speaking soothing, comforting words to her brother, her dear younger brother. Wide blue eyes, filled with a pain that was beyond physical and one sentence, one pain-filled sentence spoken in a voice filled with betrayal stopped her in her tracks. "Why did you leave me, Ari?"_

_It was like a slap to the face, no, an attack by a hundred experienced fighters at once. That one simple question felt like the cut of a million blades, the force of a million punches, the pain of a million tortures. It cut out her heart, laying it on the ground and beat it with a blade, shattering it until it had been broken into microscopic pieces which the wind promptly blew away. _

**_Why did you leave me, Ari?_**_ The question echoed in her frozen mind. _

**_Why did you leave me, Ari? Why did you leave me, Ari? Why did you leave me, Ari?_**_ It chased her, unwilling to be ignored, unwilling to be thought about later._

**_Why did you leave me, Ari? Leave me? Leave me? Leave me? _**

_And then, all of a sudden, the scene disappeared. She was left, crouching once again in the impenetrable darkness. A new voice spoke. "You left him." It spoke neither accusingly nor with wrath. It merely stated a simple fact, but one which left her reeling. She shook her head in a futile gesture of denial. "Oh, you cannot deny it, my sweet Ari." The name struck her, like a lightning bolt._

**_Why did you leave me, Ari?_**

_"You left your innocent little brother, just so you could have a better life. You left him so that you wouldn't need to take the pain anymore, so that you would be able to live your life in piece. You abandoned him." Still came the shake of the head, the silent denial, though in her heart, she knew the words to be true. She had left her brother. She had abandoned Johnny. And she could not stand the fact. _

_She ran, stumbling, tripping, the warrior's grace gone from her limbs. Yet still she was silent. She ran on, wanting to escape the voice, that voice which spoke aloud all of her inner guilt. "You can't run from me, little Ari," it came again, laughter in its voice. "You can't run from the truth. You abandoned Johnny, and you know it."_

_"I didn't," she gasped almost to herself as she kept on running._

_"You didn't?" the voice asked, incredulous. "You didn't?" It mimicked Johnny's voice, "Why did you leave me, Ari?" Cruel laughter came again as she kept on running._

_"I didn't," she whispered, her voice breaking into a sob. "I didn't."_

_Again came the voice, "Why deny it, my sweet girl? You know it's the truth. I know it, you know it, why, even Johnny knows it! You left him there by himself; you forsook him to satisfy you own selfish needs. You, in a sense, were his torturer, the reason he came to have all of those…injuries."_

**_Why did you leave me, Ari?_**

_She increased her speed, running faster than she had ever ran in her entire life, footfalls still making no sound. "You can't run from it, Ariana Monteaar. It is the truth. And no one can deny the truth in the end. It is the ult—" _

_But she couldn't hear the voice anymore. Another voice had intruded. And this voice was singing a song. It was a beautiful voice, light and melodic, seeming to sing of those things green and good, of flowers and trees, of the stars in the nighttime sky, of the gentle peace of nature, though she could not understand the words. She seemed to hear a distant snarl of rage, but it was vague, unclear. The only clear thing on her mind now was the song sung by the unknown voice, that musical voice singing that serene song…_

_Her thoughts ascended into a place where there was only light, where she felt an indescribable, strange joy take over her mind._

_And then she knew no more._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas stopped his soft song when the young woman's breathing became still and even, when she finally settled down. He stretched wearily. By his guess, it was some time in the middle of the night. He had been awoken sometime around the middle of the night, by his estimates. That itself was a strange thing, for he had nodded off sometime around midday and slept the entire day away! What had awoken him was, once again, the young woman. She had been getting up, slipping off the bed, rustling the covers as she did. As always, Legolas had waited patiently for her to walk a little bit before leading her back to her bed. But once again, she had gotten up, which had not surprised Legolas. He led her back again, waiting for her to rise again. Surprisingly, she had not. Instead, she had sat up, stock still, eyes snapping open for the first time. Legolas, who had become accustomed to seeing the blank stare of those grey eyes had been astonished when, instead of the empty stare, the eyes had filled with horror, and she had cried out. 

He had not understood anything she had said, but, acting out of instinct, he had gently eased her back onto the bed and had begun singing. The song was an old, Elven lullaby that he often sang to Elaviel and Cerricwyn, his younger twin sisters. It was a peaceful, relaxing tune and had a calming effect on the young woman, and Legolas had sung softly until she had fallen asleep again.

Now, seeing that all was calm again, he settled back into his chair and closed his eyes. His fatigue after sitting so many days of vigil caught up with him quickly, for even Elves must sleep, though not as much as humans, and he sank into sleep, walking the pathways of his dreams.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aria awoke slowly, her mind like a factory in the early working hours, slowly starting but quickly moving into whirring motion. For an instant, she wondered where she was before everything that had happened in the past few days—hours, weeks, months?—caught up with her. Immediately, she was assaulted with thoughts that needed to be worked through and analyzed, thoughts about where she was,  who those people who, how Johnny was, how her parents were—her mind was sent reeling from the amount of information she had to comprehend. And…

Her dream.

She remembered the dream as vividly as if it had been real, as if it had happened just a minute before. It was actually surprising, for she rarely remembered her dreams, and on those few occasions that she did, they were all nightmares. 

And this time was no different. **_Why did you leave me, Ari?_** The words still rang over and over again in her jumbled mind, one clear, cruel cut of a blade that swept everything else away. Feeling the guilt begin to take her over, she pushed all her thoughts away forcefully, as she had done many times before. She did not yet have the strength to confront them yet and face the fact that she had left her brother.

Opening her eyes, she scanned the room without turning her head, wondering if…

Yup, he was there. He who had introduced himself as Legolas Greenleaf. Still wondering whether to believe him or not, Aria just observed him for a moment. She could not deny the fact that he was gorgeous (or HOT! HOT! HOT! As Lilly would put it). He looked like Orlando Bloom, the actor who had played him in the movies. Yet…there was something that was subtly yet so completely different about him. She couldn't quite place it, but the first thought that had come into her mind when she had saw him was, _This__ is Legolas Greenleaf. It had taken her a while to remember that Orlando Bloom had played him in the movies. _The girls at school would have a field day with him_, she thought wryly. _Especially Trish._ For a few moments, she entertained a humorous little fantasy in her head of what would happen if this "Legolas Greenleaf" attended her high school. _

She wondered now how to wake him. She was definitely _not_ going to pull on his ears again. She shifted, rustling the sheets as she thought about it, all the while observing the seemingly sleeping figure, though his eyes were wide open.

At the sound, Legolas came out of the Elven sleeping trance with a start, automatically glancing over to the bed, expecting the young woman to be rising in her sleep again. But instead of the usual blank stare, he met a pair of startled, very much awake, gray eyes. As he rose from his seat, (it felt somewhat awkward to sit by the bed when the young woman was awake), he sensed that it was now morning and said, "_Quel__ amrun," politely. **Good morning.** ****_

Aria was surprised at Legolas's awakening at the almost undetectable sound of rustling sheets. Then again, if he was who he said he was, that would have been unsurprising. As he spoke in the flowing language, she listened intently. She still had no clue whatsoever about the language but guessed that what he had just said was "Good morning." So, acting on her instincts she said "Good morning," in English, back to him. She then slowly got out of bed and stood up. Wondering what to do next, she realized that she was still wearing the towel from yesterday and blushed, inwardly hoping that everyone she had met yesterday did not think her totally barbaric or slutty or anything. She glanced down at the stone floor and her bare feet, shifting nervously—but ever alert—as a thick silence settled over them.

Legolas, guessing the reason for the sudden redness in the young woman's cheeks and the downcast expression—any lady would feel uncomfortable in such circumstances (he did not really know what to do either), pointed over to the small chamber where dresses were held and said, *Lady, if you wish to find more suitable clothing, the chamber over there contains quite a few dresses that will hopefully be to your liking.* Aria glanced over at the direction he was pointing at, spotting the chamber immediately, and wondered how she would explain that she had already seen the dresses in there and they were too long. 

Since there was no way of communicating such a thing through speaking, she decided to get an example. Striding quickly over to the small chamber (and watching the way she walked), she randomly pulled out a few of the dresses and held them up to her own body, showing Legolas that they were several inches too long. He saw the problem immediately and realized that she must have looked through the dresses the day before. *Lady, * he said, taking one of the dresses and walking towards the door, *I shall return shortly with suitable attire. Please wait here until I return.* 

With that, he disappeared through the door, telling the two guards next to it to watch the room until his return. He probably could've just asked one of them to perform the task, but, in truth, he wanted to find Lord Elrond. Legolas was experienced with the ways of the ladies of the court, but he did not know how to properly treat this strange, young woman that seemed so different. Lord Elrond would be better suited to finding out more about her and how to begin the attempts at communication, though he would take over from there, for he had promised his father. _Why in the name of the Valar did I do that?_ he wondered as he strolled down the hall, turning a corner and then quickly backtracking to take another way as he spotted a few she-Elves that had been relentlessly pursuing him. 

*Legolas!* Legolas snapped out of his thoughts as he heard his name being called and spotted Aragorn striding toward him.

*Estel,* Legolas greeted.

*So how fares your young charge this morning?* Aragorn asked with a smile.

Legolas made a face, causing Aragorn to chuckle. *She seems well, but I cannot truly tell. She seems…different from the ladies of the court.*

*Is that not a good thing?* Aragorn teased.

*I suppose it is,* Legolas said with a laugh. Aragorn cocked his eyebrow questioningly at the dress in Legolas's arms. *It seems that the clothing we provided does not fit the lady. All of the dresses seem to be too long,* Legolas explained.

*That would be expected,* Aragorn said. *She is not Elf, Legolas, and even in human terms, she is not very tall.* he pointed out.

Before Legolas could reply, a snide voice said, *So now my younger brother is running errands for a _human?*_

Legolas gritted his teeth, determined not to be spurred on by his brother. Turning around, he said pleasantly, * Tándir. I hope I find you well this morn.*

*Very well, Brother,* Tándir said lazily. *And you? I see that you are busy.*

*I am well, Tándir.* Legolas replied. *But I must hasten now.* And with that, he walked away quickly, before his brother could make another scathing comment.

*When are you and he going to settle this?* Aragorn asked as they made their way to the seamstress's. 

*Eventually,* Legolas replied shortly, his tone clearly indicating that he did not wish to discuss that right now. Aragorn let the subject go. They found the head seamstress, explained their needs to her, and set off again to find Lord Elrond. The seamstress asked no questions; she was often handed strange tasks and knew by now not to ask, for the one requesting the task would just dodge the questions anyway. 

After avoiding several curious Elves, they found Lord Elrond in his study, and Legolas explained the situation to him, admitting that he did not really know where to go from here. Lord Elrond seemed rather amused but agreed to help Legolas start everything out. They began making their way back to the healing chambers, stopping by the seamstress's to pick up a few dresses that the head seamstress had found that matched the description Legolas had given her. After stating their thanks, they continued on their way, Legolas wondering just how they were going to explain everything to the strange young woman.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After Legolas had left, Aria had breathed a sigh of relief. The situation seemed very awkward to her. Neither one of them could understand what the other said. _How the hell am I supposed to learn that language?_ Aria wondered. _Actually, how the hell am I supposed to figure this whole situation out? She still had not decided what to believe. __Well, if you're going to try to communicate and learn that language, you can't go on thinking you're insane half the time, she thought to herself. _For now, just assume that you're in Middle-earth and stick to that assumption…at least until you're proven wrong. You don't want to end up insane, do you? __

_But what if I'm already mentally unstable?_ another part of her mind questioned.

_Well, if you think that way, you might as well be_. the calm and determined part of her mind retorted. _And you don't want to ruin all your hopes before they even form, do you?_

_I guess not…_the stubbornly practical part of her mind though doubtfully.

_Good. Then stick to it. Remember, just assume that you're in Middle-earth._

_Okay. I'm in Middle-earth. I'm in Middle-earth. I'm in Middle-earth…how can I be in Middle-earth? It doesn't exist!!!_

_Don't think about that right now! Just keep thinking 'I'm in Middle-earth.'_

_Right.__ I'm in Middle-earth. I'm in Middle-earth…_

It became a steady mantra in her mind. She repeated it silently over and over again to herself as she walked over to the vanity and picked up the comb, being very careful of her broken arm, though it seemed to be healing well, and very quickly too. Then she walked back to the bed to brush her hair, one spot in the room with a clear view of the door so that she could spot Legolas when he came back. _I'm in Middle-earth. _She brushed in short strokes. _I'm in Middle-earth. _As she continued brushing her hair, she convinced herself of that fact…at least temporarily to prevent from going insane. She made a point _not to sing again. Her hair, now dry, was beginning to get on her nerves again._

After a while, Legolas, along with the young Aragorn and Lord Elrond came into the room, stepping so quietly that, if she had not been in a constant mode of alertness and staring at the doorway, she would not have noticed. Aragorn and Lord Elrond both spoke a greeting to her and she responded with a "Hi" suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. Legolas, with a smile that could melt the heart of any girl, handed me a few dresses. Aria took them, saying "Thank you." The males promptly turned their backs, walking to the other side of the room. Aria, just to be sure that they wouldn't see something (not that she thought that they would peek…but with guys, you never knew), went inside the makeshift closet.

Out of the four dresses, she picked the one with the simplest design, a sleeveless, light blue one made out of some soft, flowing cloth with flowers embroidered on it. _Geez_, she thought as she tried to figure out how exactly to put the dress on (it seemed to have a lot more parts than the kinds of dresses she normally wore), _they could make millions out of this stuff!_ After she had managed to get it on correctly and had checked to see she hadn't done anything embarrassing with it, which had taken around ten minutes, she stepped out of the closet, dimly wondering if they had bras here. The dress had a built in sort-of corset-like thing, but it was not very comfortable. Then, she had a mental image of herself asking, or acting out, "Hey, do you guys know where I can get a bra around here?" and immediately decided that she would rather be uncomfortable for the rest of her life than ask a question like that to three strangers, and guys too. But, as she brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, she did make a mental note to ask them if they had rubber bands or a scrunchie or something.

She cleared her throat nervously, making sure to stand and act like a polite young lady. The three males turned around and inspected the young woman standing before them. She was certainly pretty, if not beautiful. The bruises on her face and arms were clearly fading. Her eyes were demurely downcast, and her hair fell in waves about her face and shoulders, a halo of silver framing porcelain skin. The soft dress complemented her slender figure, enhancing her feminine curves. She looked delicate, like a piece of beautiful stained glass that would break at the smallest touch, and they, though they were strong, brave males, felt themselves weaken at the picture of such child-like innocence.

Meanwhile, Aria had just discovered an unpleasant fact. She really, really had to go pee. She thought frantically about how to ask the question. Should she just go look for a restroom by herself? _If this is Middle-earth, do they even have restrooms?_ she wondered. _This is by far the most embarrassing situation I have ever been in! Of all the fanfiction I've read, not one has ever mentioned how the hell they use the bathroom in Middle-earth!_ Finally, she decided to try to ask. Better that, she thought, than pee somewhere I'm not supposed to! "Uh…do you guys know where the bathroom is?" she asked, raising her eyes to meet each of theirs by turn.

As expected, they did not understand. Legolas, Aragorn, and Lord Elrond understood the fact that the young woman was asking a question, the tone of her voice and the clear gray eyes made that obvious, but none of them could figure out what it was that she was asking. Aria, deciding that someone up there really wanted to have a good laugh today, tried to communicate her needs through body language. She pointed to herself, then made a shape with her hands that resembled a toilet, sat down in midair, and then flushed the invisible toilet. She was trying furiously not to blush by the end of the routine. Lord Elrond, Legolas, and Aragorn did not understand what she was trying to say. 

Aria groaned in frustration. That charade was bad enough, and they had not understood. _Ok, she thought to herself, __get ready for some major humiliation. She went through another series of body movements, once again with no result. Finally, she managed to get what she was trying to say through to them, after pointing at a few male body parts and mimicking a few things, which made everyone's faces turn red, except for Lord Elrond's, who looked like he was trying not to burst out laughing. Legolas, the tips of his ears turning scarlet, led her out of the room and to a small privy a little down the hall. As Aria took care of her bodily needs, she prayed fervently that she had not given these strangers the wrong idea. __God, please don't make me embarrass myself anymore today! _

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. Lord Elrond managed to communicate the need for Aria to learn their language through mimicking things, which Aria discovered that he was much more successful at than her. Lord Elrond and Aragorn had left, leaving Legolas to teach her, much to Aria's secret delight. She was strangely drawn by him. No, it was not love, but rather curiosity; infatuation. She had gone through infatuation many other times with various hot guys, as all girls do, and by now, she knew the difference between that and love, though truly, she had never been in love. And she also knew to wait the infatuation out; some of the guys she had become infatuated with ended up becoming good friends. 

They had spent the day with him pointing out objects in the rather spacious healing chamber teaching and learning. To Legolas's surprise, Aria began to teach him her language as well. He would say the name for an object in Sindarin, and she would repeat it. Then she would say its name in English, and he would repeat it. They stopped for lunch, in which Aria discovered many types of unknown but delicious foods. Legolas had become quite intrigued by his charge; he had not expected her to teach him her language as well. He had not expected this turn of events from the seemingly shy and demure young woman. Aria, meanwhile, had decided that it would be rather boring to only learn a language and not try to teach her's as well. 

During the day, as she paced around the room with Legolas in a pair of soft slippers he had provided, she was careful not to let the fact that she knew anything about fighting or martial arts slip. She didn't think that these people would turn out to be jailers or enemies, but one could never be too careful. She had made sure to keep the expressions on her face and in her eyes to match the moment. Many hid behind emotionless masks; she hid behind emotions. It was said that eyes are the windows to one's soul. If that was true, she had to make sure to keep those window closed and locked. Besides, she was used to doing so anyway. She had also made sure that she made noise when she walked. Silence steps would not be expected from a sheltered young lady. She noticed though, that Legolas moved silently, and gracefully as well. His steps were well-paced and undetectable, his movements like those of a cat, silky and seeming to flow together into an elegant dance of sorts.

Aragorn had shown up at before dinnertime, intruding in on the continuous lesson, the many words of which were fixed clearly in Aria's mind. The many rules of training had sharpened her mind, and she could remember almost anything. After greeting Aria, Aragorn had asked Legolas in surprise, *You are teaching her Sindarin? Would it not be wiser to teach her the Common Tongue first?*

*Perhaps,* Legolas agreed, *but I had noticed that she was quite entranced by the language and thought that it might be a better way to go. One will learn faster if one is eager to learn. And she learns very quickly, a very intelligent young woman.* He shrugged. He didn't really know the exact reason he had decided to teach Aria Elvish. It was almost like instinct that made him do it. _Then again_, he thought wryly, _if it is instinct, it has made me do several things I do not know why I am doing._

*I suppose you are correct,* Aragorn said. *But why is she teaching you her language as well, my friend?*

*I do not know,* Legolas admitted. *It came as a surprise to me as well but a rather delightful surprise at that.* At this point, Legolas broke the conversation off, for his manners dictated that he should not ignore his charge for very long. Aragorn, with a farewell to Legolas and a bow to Aria, to which she curtsied rather awkwardly, left. After a grand dinner, at least in Aria's eyes, for she was a dismal cook, Legolas excused himself and left, pointing to Aria and saying, "Bed. Sleep," in English. 

At that, Aria grinned and said, "Bed. Sleep," back to him in Sindarin. 

Legolas would come back later, but for now, he thought that the young woman, Aria, he mentally corrected himself, would prefer it if there was not someone sitting by her bed while she was trying to sleep. It might make her uncomfortable. All in all, as he made his way to the dining hall, Legolas was very curious to find out more about that young, human woman.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aria changed into the silky nightgown from the day before, pondering upon the day's events. Legolas was very nice and extremely patient. She had managed to keep the infatuation factor down and already, she could feel that Legolas was going to end up being a good friend. She had been planning to sort through her thoughts right now, since she was alone, to face the fears and guilt about all that she had left behind. But, as she stumbled into the luxurious bed, she felt exhaustion creeping over her. The day's events had not really been very tiring, but what with her still-healing wounds, she was much more tired that she would normally be.

_Johnny…_

That was the last thought on her mind as she drifted into sleep. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

ok…this chapter sucks! I'm so disappointed in it, but I can't think of a way to make it better! There just has to be chapter where all the learnings and beginnings start out…god, I hate this chapter! And it was hard to write too! Oh well…if u think it was crap and are disappointed that I took so long to post this not so good chappie, I will not blame you in the slightest.

LadyTremere: I didn't really get what you were saying about Legolas looking like Legolas…but I did change all that stuff you mentioned before in your reviews when I revised! ^_^ well, not the embroidery part yet, but I'll get to that eventually. And u leave long reviews! YAY! I have this thing for long reviews…

NEED TO GO TO SLEEP NOW…I'LL REPLY/ MAKE COMMENTS TO REVIEWERS NEXT CHAPPIE! THANX TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! LUV U GUYS!

**QUESTIONS: WHAT IS A BETA READER? I'VE SEEN A LOT OF AUTHOR'S NOTES SAYING A THANK YOU TO THEIR BETA READER BUT I'M STILL CONFUSED ABOUT WHAT THAT IS. ALSO, WHAT IS AUTHOR ALERT? DOES MIDDLE-EARTH HAVE INSTRUMENTS LIKE THE VIOLIN AND THE CELLO?**

**BY THE WAY U GUYS, PLEASE CHECK OUT MY FIC "BLIND TO HOPE"! IT IS A LEGGY-ANGST THING AT HELM'S DEEP, THE FIRST ONE I'VE EVER WRITTEN…SORTA DEPRESSING… TELL ME WHAT U THINK!**

I promise that I'll try to update sooner! Damn school…

**~Lady of Dreams~**


	13. Interlude

THIS IS NOT AN ACTUAL CHAPTER!!! I'M SORRY BUT I DON'T HAVE THE TIME RIGHT NOW TO MAKE AN ACTUAL CHAPTER.

I AM SO DAMN SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG!!! Unfortunately, next week is the last week of school and you know what that means: finals. And of the course, the week before finals just had to be our favorite *gasp* project week!!! So I have been staying up late practically every single night doing my stupid projects and I am so damn tired…unfortunately, I can't take a break cuz I gotta study for finals too…*sigh* I'm gonna die from stress!!! But I promise that I'll update after school's out and after I get back from my trip…this isn't an actual chapter. I was going to just make this an author's note, but I decided to give y'all a little something for being so patient. It's basically a series of reflections over various things…if you've read RA Salvatore's Forgotten Realms, it's kinda like the thingie Drizzt writes at the beginning of each new part…

PEOPLES, PLEASE READ MY AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END!!! IT'S A POLL ABOUT THE STORY AND AN IMPORTANT NOTE!!!!

Disclaimer: don't own nothin'

**Interlude**

_What am I? _

_There are so many answers to that question. I am a student, a sophomore at my high school. I am a sister. I am a child of my parents. Am I a warrior? No. I am but one who learns the fighting arts. But above all of that, I am an actress, a performer._

**_I weave a web of lies…_**

_What defines what a person is? Does not everyone act from time to time? Who in this world could be their true selves to everyone they meet? Who could be so innocent and naïve as to trust every stranger? Children, yes. But even children learn not to trust so easily as they grow. Is that such a good thing? Perhaps if someone were out to harm them. But as one grows up and learns those hard facts about life, that purity is forever lost._

**_There is no such thing as purity…_**

_Yes, an actress. That is what I am. For what is my life each day but an act? An act of happiness, of popularity, of so many things I'm not. Yet as I perform this act each day, is it integrated into part of my being? Do I become what I act? Or am I a completely different person on the inside, acting out of necessity? If I did not have to be popular at school and I was not, would I be satisfied with being just one of the crowd, not standing out? Would I not care?_

**_Perhaps I do not even know myself…_**

_Some would say that you have a choice in everything, that no one is forcing you to do the things you do for your brother. They would say that if you try hard enough, you will always find a solution. And perhaps they have a point. But life is not so simple as in the books, where effort will bring forth a miracle. Oh no, real life is much harder than that. I have learned that sometimes, no matter how hard one tries, they cannot change their situation. _

**_Fate controls the pieces on the board; I am but a pawn…_**

_For my parents are beings of evil. They have no loyalties, yet they work together as a seamless pair. If one of them turned on the other, they would take no hesitations in killing one another, I believe. They say that evil turns on itself. That eventually, mistrust will brew into a storm and evil will kill itself. Perhaps that is true or disorganized evil. But evil, one that is organized, systematic, efficient, that which does not kill members of its own out of greed or anger, is a hard enemy to fight indeed. And that is the flaw in good. Good has ties, loyalties. A good man may be undefeatable in weaponry, yet take one of his beloved friends or his lover, and he can be controlled like a puppet. _

**_A puppeteer...one that is cruel…_**

_But that is what separates good from evil. I would like to think I am a good person. If I just let go, let whatever happens to Johnny happen to him, what would I be? If I sat in the sidelines without doing anything and watch him be killed or tortured, would I be able to live with myself. Would I ever be able to escape that guilt that there was something I could have done to stop it? No, I would rather die than just let go, let my brother go to those beings who call themselves my "parents." And so I am controlled so easily, a doll on strings._

**_Too easily controlled…but how can I change it?_**

_But I am straying from my topic._

**_Straying? Or avoiding?_**

_Acting is not so hard when every day, one acts. How easily I can put emotions in my voice, in my eyes! I am like a slide projector. I project only the emotion that is put in the slot, that I want to be there. True, sometimes that emotion is real, but that is only sometimes. How often have I feigned happiness when I wanted to cry, jeer at someone when I actually wanted to help them? For I am a skilled painter when it comes to the art of deception. Too skilled, sometimes, for my own liking. _

**_An expert in my craft._****_ Who sees beyond what I show?_**

_Deception.___

**_A word with many meanings._****__**

_Some are so easy to deceive. But am I doing them harm as I act for them? For when they find out the truth, will some part of their innocence, their trust in others be shattered? _

**_A broken mirror._****_ Scattered shards of glass, each holding its own reflection._**

_What is my life? Am I living a lie? Will I one day wake to find out that everything I've ever believed in is false? That in the end, I will not be able to save him? And if that comes to pass, will I be able to rise up again from the dirt and dust? Or will I sink into the ashes, broken?_

**_A broken doll._****_ But look, it is crying…_**

_So many questions there are that I cannot answer. How often I have wondered if I could do something different, if I could've chosen a different path, a less painful one. But I have already started off on this road and I cannot stop. Halting mean leaving me here, starving, dry. To veer off means to drop into that dark abyss, to fall forever. Turning back is impossible for the way is blocked by brambles and bushes. To go forward is the only option open to me. _

**_A clear way through…but what will be on the other side?_**

_What is the meaning of living? For what reason do we walk on this earth's surface, consumed in our daily activities? What gave us this life? Why do we live it? For what reason are we born?_

**_We are all born…all born to die…_**

_But Elves are immortal. Do they die? Mustn't they die as well? Or can they truly live forever? What is the meaning of eternity? Can we, humans, comprehend it? Can Elves comprehend the aspect of living forever? Do even the wisest, even the Valar know?_

**_Eternity is a void. Life means death. _**

_And what is death? Death…ascendance into the next realm, the realm after death, many would say. Some would say it is the end, the end of everything. Others believe in reincarnation, that the soul will come back. But no matter what each of us believes, all of us still fight it. We fight death 'till the end. Does that not show our fear? Can anyone truly claim that they are not afraid of death? _

**_Death is only the beginning…_**

_Too many questions.__ All unanswered. But who could answer them? All I can do is to live my life to the best of my abilities. To **live.**_

**_A pendulum swings._**

****

**_Back and forth._****__**

****

**_Back._**

****

**_Forth_**_._****__****

****

**_Back._**

****

**_Forth_**_._****__****

****

**_It slows._**

****

**_It stops._**

****

**_There is nothing._**

****

**_Yet nothing is everything._**

_—Ariana Monteaar_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

ok, now that that's done…tell me what you thought of it, even though it wasn't an actual chapter. Now for the poll: I don't know how I want Aria to show that she has weapons training and I don't have very many ideas. But out of the ideas I do have, do you want her to:

a) have someone such as Tándir be sneaking up on her for some reason and she reacts instinctively

b) just let there be a normal practicing weapon session and she just decides to let them know that she can use a weapon

c) have her show them at the festival that will have weaponry competitions and such

d) have her go out into the woods to search for her stuff along with some Elves and then have orcs attack them and let them show them there

e) have Gandalf arrive and he finds her stuff and weapons in the forest and brings them and she explains everything

f) have Leggy's little twin sisters give her a tour around the palace (after she can speak Elvish) which eventually leads to the armory. There, she picks up a few weapons and starts swinging them around. The twins are impressed and let out the word to their family that Aria can use weapons…

g) some other suggestions?

P.S. should I have Gandalf bring her weapons when he arrives or should she take a search party out to try and look for her things? Should they not find out about her weapons training until after she can speak Elvish fluently?

PLEASE ANSWER MY QUESTIONS CUZ I WANNA SEE WHAT YOU GUYS WANT TO SEE HAPPEN IN THIS STORY!!!

**ALSO, I WILL BE CHANGING MY SCREEN NAME TO Angel of Death. I DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S IMPORTANT OR NOT BUT I'M LETTING Y'ALL KNOW JUST IN CASE. ALSO, I'M CHANGING THE NAME OF THIS STORY TO The Art of Deception. IFYOU DON'T LIKE THE NEW TITLE, TOO BAD, CUZ I DO.**

**AND PEOPLES, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CHECK OUT MY OTHER LOTR FIC "Blind to Hope"!!!! and if any of you like Harry Potter fanfiction, I wrote a little piece called ficlet based on Christina Aguilera's song "Walk Away" called "Walk Away." Lol. Check that out if you want to. **

Now, some responses to review for Chapter 11:

AnGeLiC dEvIl: lol, I like long reviews!!! It gives me a better perspective of what my readers are like! I would appreciate it a lot if you sent me a Sindarin dictionary. I started taking lessons but gave up cuz I didn't have enough time cuz of school…I hate school. And finals are this week!!! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! I'm gonna die!!!

LilOne: glad you like the reaction! I had hoped that people wouldn't think that I was draggin it out too much!

Fans: thanx for adding me to your favorites list! Glad you likes!

Kaebabe: lol, the intro was very spur of the moment. I was reading fanfiction one night and the idea just popped into my head!

*Star Girl*: I loved The Blue Sword!!! The beginning was sorta boring but then I got really into it…Robin Mckinley is an awesome writer. And I will email you back soon!

Giftofgramarye: wow…you sound very professional! And I like long reviews!! U like trig? *jaw drops* I haven't done trig yet but from what little we have covered (sine cosine tangent) I really don't like it…then again, I'm just not a math oriented person. Thanx for the helpful hints…I do try to make them talk not so modernly, but it does slip out. sometimes it seems that I can't make them talk in a Middle-earth fashion without making seem silly! I'll have to work on that…I envy those authors who are unbelievably gifted with characterization. *laughs* and yes, I do realize the abused child cliché and strange colored hair make Aria a mary sue, but I really don't care anymore. I've discovered that practically all of these kinds of characters are and I've given up on trying to go non mary sue. It seems that there's always some little characteristic that labels a female character as mary sue…but if a female character didn't have something special about her or some reason that Legolas would notice her, then how would it become romance? So far, I have not read a single romance Legolas/OC fic on this site that does not somehow fit the standards of mary sue, even though it might be subtler than mine. Also, when I began this fic, I hadn't gone very deep into LOTR fandom yet and was not as knowledgeable on mary sues as I am now…oh well, if it's mary sue, then it's mary sue. And this is getting impossibly long…I tend to ramble so forgive me. I didn't catch a review for chapter 12, so I'm wondering if you read it. Well thanx for the reviews!

Limegreenlion: lol, happy seeds? I luv cotton candy! Sugar is good…

Shurianta: so what exactly is your opinion of this story??? sorry if I'm being stupid…

Snarfburgalar: I'm glad you understand how much I hate geometry…I'm learning Spanish in school right now and it's a really easy class. Why can't geometry be like that? why, why? I think I'll do more stuff from various peoples POVs in the future but right now if I do that, I'll never get through with the whole learning the language process. After she can speak fluently, I think I might do more stuff from her POV. I think I'm better at writing first person than third person.

Melisa-malfoy: is that a good reaction?

Muriel_sol: Lol, I wish that would work. I wish there were no finals *taps heels* I wish there were no finals *taps feet* I wish there were not finals *taps feet* I don't think it's working…

YingRui: hehe, glad you think my fic is unique! 

Niphredil: yay! A fellow geometry hater! Seriously, when are we ever going to use it in our lives? I'm barely managing an A in the class!

Dreamstrifer: you said the exact thing I was thinking! a person would learn quicker if they were surrounded by it all the time! I went to China last summer (before SARS) and my Chinese improved tons cuz I had to speak it all the time! Glad you like the fic!

Kris: yay, you read "Blind to Hope" and "Walk Away"!!! I love you! (and I don't mean that in a gross way) I'm thinking of continuing both of them, actually cuz summer is coming up and I'll have time. Habla espanol? Tomo espanol ahora en mi escuela. Es un clase muy facil. LOL I hope I said that right!

Tbiris: Tolkien never specified whether Legolas had siblings or not, did he?

Tigababie: my sentiments exactly

Vanye Quende: he probably could, but for this story, I'm not going to make him do that. well…you'll see. Glad you likes.

Youko Demon: lol, I tend to ramble. That's how my chapters get so long. I start writing one thing then I keep on extending it and extending it. Like this chapter! It was only supposed to be one page but it turned out three!

Usako: glad you like my fic!

Nessime, gurl of gondor: thanx for the sites! Glad you like the fic!

Damn, that was long! I never realized I had so many reviewers! Thank you all!

Now, for chapter 12:

Youko Demon: I like long reviews!!! Author alert costs money?!?!? I never knew that!

Lady Death: sorry for the long wait…blame it on school.

Toni: *blushes* I'm glad you like my fic that much! And don't worry, I'll be able to match you for craziness! Lol

Kilia: hehe, you'll see soon.

Vanye Quende: I know!!! Imagine asking an actual Legolas Greenleaf, Aragorn, and Lord Elrond how to go pee when you have to mime it out! God…

Luintathraiel: glad you like!

*Star Girl*: lots of people have been saying that they don't have instruments like that in ME but one person said that in The Hobbit, some of the dwarves were playing the viol, whatever that is. That sounds similar to the violin, doesn't it? And if they had violin, wouldn't they be smart enough to figure out cello?

Crabby Opinonated Potent Sulta: what are you typing your story on? Cuz I type mine on word and that lets me italicize and do bold.

Usako: LOL. I know! No one ever mentions those small, but vital things! You would think that people don't have bodily needs anymore! next up: pads and tampons. How's she gonna ask that? lol and scimitars are so cool!

Alina* Greenleaf: hey! Glad you like my story so much!

Orange Eyes:  I know, I loved that book! Drizzt is the coolest character! And scimitars are awesome! I'm almost done with all of R.A. Salvatore's Drizzt/Forgotten Realms books. He is soooooooo cool! (as you can see, I have a slight obsession with Drizzt)

Koosei: glad you like! But what does ja ne mean?

Ariach: glad you likes! Sorry for the long wait though…don't hunt me down! Lol

Corrupted-innocent: I love your new name! glad you liked the chapter!

Kyu: I need to review The Hobbit. The thing is, everyone else has been saying that they don't have those instruments in ME! I really need to get a copy of The Hobbit…

Iluvenis: hehe, glad you like. What exactly is an updating list?

Ok, I'm finally done with all my responses. This thing is now seven pages! Four of them were my notes and responses! LOL. REVIEW!!!


	14. Chapter Twelve: Elflords, Twins, and Tru...

**The Art of Deception**

HOLY SH--! *jaw drops* I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MANY REVIEWS I GOT FOR THE LAST CHAPTER, WHICH WASN'T EVEN A CHAPTER! OVER SEVENTY!!! THANK YOU GUYS SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!! I LUV YOU ALL! I AM SOOOOOOOO DAMN SORRY THE UPDATE TOOK SO LONG!!! I'LL LEAVE ALL MY NOTES AT THE END THIS TIME SO YOU GUYS CAN READ THE CHAPTER. IT'S NICE AND LONG!

Disclaimer: don't own it.

_Italics_ = thoughts/emphasis/Elvish

*….* = speaking in Elvish

**Bold** = Elvish translations

**Chapter Twelve: Elf-lords, Twins, and Truths—Oh My! **

Aria woke up in a cocoon of warmth. Silken sheets pressed against her skin. The pillow under her head felt like it could not be any softer. Slowly, luxuriously, before that forever cautious part of her mind took over, she stretched out. For a moment, it felt wonderful just to be alive, to not worry about anything at all. But as she finished stretching, her eyes still closed, reality once again caught up to her. With a sigh, like one who has experienced bliss but now had to leave, she slowly opened her eyes.

In an instant, that ever on-guard part of her mind started berating her. _Idiot! If you were in the hands of an enemy, you would've been dead in an instant! You don't know anything about this place, these people yet! You need to stay alert, stay on your guard!_ She cut off the barrage of reprimands, reminding herself that all these—well, for now, let's just say people—had shown her nothing but kindness. Legolas—she still half-wondered if he would disappear when she touched him—was teaching her how to speak their lovely, flowing language. All was right with the world; she had no need to be so wary.

_Johnny…_her conscience reminded her. She pushed her thoughts away. She didn't want to think about that right now. All of that thinking took place in a second. The next, she was glancing over to the chair by the bed to see if Legolas was there, as he had been the morning before. 

He wasn't. She felt slightly relieved, slightly disappointed. _Disappointed?_ She knew that was just the infatuation talking. She had become very good at analyzing her own feelings and emotions, good points and bad points. Though sometimes overly suspicious, she had become good at judging others' characters, usually seeing if a ruse was up. _The result of living a lie,_ she thought bitterly. Her mind flashed back to something Lilly had once mentioned to her.

//It was Friday night. They were at a teen nightclub, just dancing, as most people attending their high school did on Friday nights, unless they were on a date. They had just met some people attending another high school, though they had gone to get some drinks. 

 "You know, you make people uneasy sometimes when you stare at them." Lilly remarked.

"Are you serious?" Aria asked. "I didn't know I was staring!"

 "It's like you're looking into their souls, and they can't meet your gaze for fear that you'll see anything and everything about them. It's like you're searching them for some hint of a lie or a fault." she elaborated.

Aria had felt a chill then. She had let a little too much of her true character slip, though she hadn't even noticed what she was doing. It would not do to scare people away. She would need to watch herself more carefully from now on. Unable to think of anything to say, Aria had just shrugged. For an instant, there had been an unreadable look in Lilly's amethyst eyes, but it disappeared so quickly that Aria wondered if she had imagined it. "Let's go dance," Lilly suddenly said, laughing. The mood lightened. They moved onto the dance floor, Aria listening with some amusement as Lilly whispered to her about the hot guy in the corner of the room that she had just spotted, the heavy conversation forgotten.//

She came out of the flashback. Perhaps that ability should be put to use now. She would have to do it subtly, however, unnoticeable enough so that she could still be seen as the harmless young maiden. _But if they are friends, she reasoned with herself, _there would be no reason for me to hide my abilities._ The other part of her mind asked her, __can you truly claim that you have friends? The question made her freeze. She wanted to deny it, to shout out "That's not true!" But now that the question was out, could she truly say that it was a lie. Oh she had friends, of course, tons of them. Popularity immediately gave one that. But were any of them true friends? Was even Lilly, her best friend, a true friend? And if she was not, was it Aria's fault?_

Aria didn't want to think into the topic anymore. The point of the matter was whether or not these people whose home she was in right now were enemies or _allies_. She would have to decide that as time went along. _But for now, it's better safe than sorry_, she reasoned grimly. Not wanting to lose herself to unanswerable questions again, she slowly sat up. Her wounds didn't hurt, which she was very grateful for. She tested her broken arm, moving it around a bit, wincing. That would still take some time. She inspected herself but found only minor cuts and bruises left over from the fall. Standing up, she walked over to the vanity, peering into the mirror. The bruises on her face and arms could barely be seen now and would soon disappear.

Her proof would be gone.

Then again, she doubted there were policemen around here anyways. But she wondered how she would let the secret spill when she could communicate properly. Could she even? Could her parents know what she was doing? She didn't know. It defied all logic that her parents could have any knowledge if she told, but then again, logic never applied with her parents. Not wanting to lose herself in her thoughts once again, Aria once again settled on the task of brushing her hair. Having kept it down the whole day yesterday, it was now a tangled mess. _I really need to ask for a strip of cloth or something_, she thought, resigning herself to brushing her hair and only that. She hadn't changed yet, not knowing where the dresses from yesterday had gone.

Aria knew that it was morning, though she didn't know how she knew. There were no windows in the room. Still, she just had that feeling. As she brushed, she reviewed her knowledge of Middle-earth because, as she reminded herself, _I'm in Middle-earth. Just don't think about the other possibilities._ All she knew came from either _The Hobbit_ or _The__ Fellowship of the Ring. Aria had not had a chance to read any more of Tolkien's work. She would try to sort through this web._

_Ok_, she began, _if Legolas is here, that probably means that I'm in Mirkwood. Lorien and Rivendell would both be much more open and airy. The __palace__ of __Mirkwood__—assuming that I'm in the palace—was, no is, a series of caves. Since Aragorn, I think that was him, seems a lot younger, this must be before the War of the Ring. Part of her couldn't believe she was doing this. Middle-earth was a fantasy world, nothing more! But the part that was determined to keep her sanity and stuck to it stubbornly. Now, what do I know about Middle-earth? She went over all the facts she could remember from _The Fellowship of the Ring_ and _The___ Hobbit. __Mirkwood__, Mirkwood…she mused. __It's dark and murky. That sure's gonna help me tons. Aria didn't know much about it. For some strange reason, the ballad of __The Fall of Gil-galad came to mind. _

Softly, she began to chant, 

"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.

Of him the harpers sadly sing;

the last whose realm was fair and free

between the Mountains and the Sea."

_God, that's not gonna help!_ she thought, mentally groaning. She remembered with fondness how she had memorized what little of the ballad there had been in _The Fellowship of the Ring_, even making up a tune to go along with it, which had, of course, annoyed Lilly to death. For the next, well, she had no clue how long, she went over everything she could remember about _The Lord of the Rings, which wasn't much, considering she had only read two of Tolkien's books. I knew it, she thought vehemently after racking her brain a dozen times over for info, I knew I should've tried to get my hands on those books faster! Suddenly, something else occurred to her, something she had once heard._

//It was a Thursday afternoon, and Aria was just about to leave school. The building was empty, considering it was almost evening. She had stayed behind for debate team and was now hurrying away. She still had to get homework done before going home. As she passed an open door, she heard people conversing inside. Peeking inside, silently, with no one noticing, she saw who they were. The Tolkien fanatics. They met once a week, discussing LOTR things. She would have loved to join that group, but no, she didn't have the time. But as she walked away, slowly, her sharp hearing picked up a strange chant:

"Legolas Greenleaf, long under tree

In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!

If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,

Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more."

The conversation had then been reduced to murmurs as she moved farther and farther away, wishing, though it was impossible, that she could be free to do what she wanted.//

_Is that all I can remember about him?_ she asked herself. _I don't even have a clue what the hell it is! She scoured her memory again. _There was something about a strange Elf clad in brown and green or something like that. That doesn't help much either. _Aria sighed. __In The Hobbit_, Thranduil was king of Mirkwood. Legolas is his son. I guess Thranduil is still the king, since Elves don't die. Well, unless he got killed but I don't remember reading about that anywhere. This sucks._ She sighed again. Life was unfair._

Ok, Elrond healed Frodo, and he's the Lord of Rivendell, or Imladris. Aragorn had the whole king thing going, heir of Isildur, Elessar, etc. But all that stuff hasn't happened yet, so it's not helping me! Frustrated with this lack of information about who her hosts were, she attacked her hair furiously, almost done brushing the whole, thick mane. To clear her mind, she began singing the tune she had made up for _The Fall of Gil-galad, deciding that she probably wouldn't be attacked here._

"His sword was long, his lance was keen,

his shining helm afar was seen;

the countless stars of heaven's field

were mirrored in his silver shield."

Unknown to her, Legolas was once again heading toward the healing chambers. He had come back after she had fallen asleep to take up guard again, once again soothing her sleep with a song when she fell into the strange awake yet not mode. But, waking before she, Legolas had gone away as to not make Aria nervous when she woke up. Now he was heading back, bearing dresses once more. As he neared the room, however, he was once again greeted by the sound of soft singing.

"But long ago he rode away,

and where he dwelleth none can say;

for into darkness fell his star

in Mordor where the shadows are."

He still did not understand what she was saying, but one word caught his attention. Mordor. The instant Legolas heard that word, his suspicions were aroused. How would a young woman know of Mordor, where the Dark Lord Sauron ruled? Was she a spy, holding up a deception of innocence when in truth, she was the evil? He calmed himself down enough to reason it out. She was singing, so it might have been part of the song. 

That was the most reasonable answer, for Legolas knew of a few songs that mentioned Mordor in them. He relaxed a bit. If she was somehow a spy, the conditions in which she was found in would not be answerable. Why would orcs attack one of their own? _Unless they purposely made it that way so that she would appear innocent,_ a little voice in the back of his mind nagged. 

Legolas shook his head. _I'm becoming more like Ada, he thought, __overly suspicious of strangers. But he would not completely dismiss his suspicions; that would be folly. However, he gave them no more thought at the moment and strode silently into the room._

Aria had heard him coming, however silent he had been, though she did not know who it was. The rustling dresses had given him away. _Great, she thought, __how come every time someone comes, they always catch me sitting in front of the mirror, brushing my hair, and singing? God, they must think I'm so vain and petty now. _

_But isn't that what you want them to think? _another part of her mind voiced. _Don't you want them to think you're helpless?_

She did. Didn't she? For some strange reason, the idea of these graceful, beautiful Elves looking upon her with disdain and resigning themselves to the fact that she was some simpering idiot with no brains made her flinch. She didn't want to be seen that way.

_I don't have to prove anything to them_! she thought heatedly, angry at herself.

_Ah…_that other part of her mind whispered. _That's true. But you want them to like you; you want them to be your friends._ If the thought had been voiced out loud, the voice would have been laden with sarcasm.

_I think too much._ She resisted the urge to sigh. Sometimes she was her own worst enemy.

The thinking took place in seconds as she once again showed no sign that she knew he had entered, waiting for him to let her know he was there. And she was soon greeted by a soft, "_Quel__ amrun."_

//I wake up in the morning

Put on my face//

She turned around quickly, feigning surprise. But the surprise then turned into delight as a smile spread over her face, a true smile, for she was happy to see Legolas again. "Good morning!" she said cheerfully. Her breath still caught at how gorgeous he was. His silky hair, the part that was not up in braids, spilled in golden tresses over the front of his shoulder as he leaned to set the dresses he had been carrying on the bed. His azure blue eyes met hers, and he returned the smile. Upon seeing the almost childlike smile that had graced her lips and the true delight in her eyes, his suspicion had been reduced greatly. _Surely, he thought, __she could not be a spy!  _

//The one that's gonna get me

Through another day//

Aria, however, had caught the suspicion in his blue eyes before the smile (it had made her breathe a little quicker) had dissolved it. She should not have been able to see it: Elves were impeccable masters at maintaining facades of cool detachment and hiding their true emotions. But she had, and it had startled her. What had she done? Her mind raced through everything she had said to him or any of the others. Mordor. Her breath caught. It had been part of _The Fall of Gil-galad_. He must have caught it. _Great, she thought, _how am I gonna explain this one?__

She could understand his suspicions, but they still hurt.

_Foolish_, she chided herself. _Have you learned nothing from your parents? Don't care about what he thinks. He is nothing. For heaven's sake, you've only met him for a day, you can barely communicate, and now you're let down because he doesn't think of you as his best friend?_ And so, as always, she pushed her emotions aside, her smile never faltering, never showing a hint of the thoughts racing through her mind.

//Doesn't really matter

What I feel inside

This life is like a game sometimes//

"Good morning?" Legolas repeated, tilting his head to one side.

"Yes," she said. "Um…" She wondered how she could demonstrate this. He obviously knew it was some kind of greeting, but it needed to be more specific than that. Aria spotted some parchment, a quill, and ink on a nearby table. Her eyes lit up, and she walked over to it, picking up the quill and dipping it into the ink. She had never used a quill before, but it was not quite so different from using an ink pen that had to be refilled often. Legolas followed, eyeing what she was doing curiously. Quickly, she drew a rough sketch of a person in a bed and the sun rising, wincing inwardly at her dismal drawing skills, but thoroughly glad that it had been her left arm that she had broken and not her right, which was her writing and drawing arm. Finishing, she pointed to it, saying, "Good morning."

A look of understanding dawned on Legolas's face. The young woman could not draw very well, but Legolas decided to make no comment. _Not that she could understand me whether or not I say something_, he thought wryly. But from the expression on her face, she knew the extent of her artistic skills as well. "Good morning," he said again. "_Quel__ amrun." _

"_Quel__ amrun," she said with no hesitation. Her pronunciation was not perfect but pretty good for a beginner. Aria smiled again, truly happy at learning something else. _I'm sitting here, in Middle-earth,  learning Elvish from Legolas Greenleaf…who wouldn't die to be in my position?_ she thought, mentally smirking as she thought of how half the population on Earth would react. _

Legolas, deciding it would be better if Aria changed into some more suitable clothes before continuing their lessons, handed her the stack of dresses that he had brought in. She accepted them gratefully, taking them into the closet, which had been emptied of all the other dresses, and putting them there. Going to a section of the rather spacious closet which was completely concealed from the entrance of it, she began changing into a dress made of a soft, dark green velvet, with sleeves that wide sleeves that grew even larger as they neared the ends, creating an almost bellbottom-like effect. It was gorgeous, like the medieval dresses she saw at Renaissance fairs. She changed carefully and slowly because it had sleeves, praying that she wouldn't look too ridiculous in something so fine.

Meanwhile, Legolas was standing next to the doorway of the healing chamber, peering around to the hall outside to see if there was anyone he recognized. The hall was empty. Sighing, he was about to stick his head back in when two slender, dark haired figure came dashing down the hall. Legolas recognized them at once. "Elladan, Elrohir!" he called out. 

"Legolas!" Elrohir said as the two Elves ran up to him, "is anyone occupying that room?" Elladan was glancing around the hall to make sure it was still empty

Before Legolas could say anything, they ducked into the room, dragging Legolas with them. Safely in, Elladan, closed the door. That done, both of them let out a sigh and flopped onto the bed. They had obviously been running about for a while, though they were barely breathing harder than normal. Legolas cocked an eyebrow. "Are you two going to tell me why you were running like a horde of orcs was behind you?"

Two pairs of mischievous green eyes looked at him as two identical faces split into wicked grins. Elladan said, "We can only say that we have incurred the wrath of a certain, blonde Elf-lord, though," he took on an innocent expression, "I have no idea why."

Legolas sighed, trying not to smile, "What have you two done to Glorfindel this time?"

Elrohir, his expression one of misinterpreted good will, said, "Us? Legolas? We're wounded. We only know that my Lord Glorfindel has somehow managed to turn his hair a rather astonishing shade of pink!"

At that, Legolas burst out laughing. The twins soon joined in. "Sweet Eru! You did not!"

Elladan, seeing no reason to deny it anymore, smirked and said, "Yes, we did."

Legolas, chuckling, said, "He'll have your heads for this one. How many pranks have you played on him already since you came to Mirkwood?"

Elrohir said nonchalantly, "Only a few."

Legolas, raising an eyebrow incredulously, "Only a few?" 

"Only three," Elladan assured. At the disbelieving expression on Legolas's face, he amended, "maybe four, no five…possibly six." 

Legolas heaved a sigh, trying not to grin. "You two are setting a very bad example for my sisters. They've started adopting some of your prank methods. As if their former pranks weren't bad enough."

"Us?!" Elrohir exclaimed, his expression indignant.

"Never!" Elladan agreed, though the impish sparkle in his eyes belied his words. "We have only your dear little sisters' best interests at heart."

"Of course, _nin__ mellyn **[my friends]," Legolas said, though he didn't believe a word of it.**_

"You're a fine one to talk, Legolas," Elladan said. "After all, you little sisters have confided in us many times about how their skills were taught to them by their dear elder siblings," he mimicked the small twins, "especially Leggy."

Pretending not to hear the remark, Legolas continued, "How long do you plan on hiding from Glorfindel?"

"Only until his hair becomes normal again," Elrohir said.

"And how long will that be?" Legolas asked, wondering how much trouble the twins were really going to get into.

"Around a week or so," said Elladan.

"A week?! You think you can hide from him for that long? Was Estel part of this prank as well?" Legolas asked in disbelief, glad that he was not in their positions right now.

"No, unfortunately Estel was too busy hunting orcs with you to take part," Elrohir said, wiping fake, unseen tears away. "Such a shame for our little brother."

"Thank the Valar for that," Legolas murmured, none too softly.

Elladan, ignoring the comment, said, "On the topic of hunting orcs, _mellon-nîn__ **[my friend]**_,_ we were hoping that we could go along with Fimbor's orc hunting party. They always stay in the forest for several days at least, don't they?"_

Legolas, seeing where this was leading laughed and said, "Nay, I'm afraid you're out of luck, my friends. My father has called all of Mirkwood's orc hunting parties back for the move back to the surface that will take place soon. None will go until we are settled in the summer palace." 

"Oh," Elrohir said weakly, obviously not expecting this. But at that point, their conversation was interrupted as they heard a thump, a word in a strange language that sounded like a curse, followed by a young woman in dark green velvet falling out of the dressing chamber and onto the floor.

Aria had been listening to their conversation as she dressed, careful to avoid knocking her broken arm against anything. She had figured out soon that they weren't speaking in Elvish, or at least not whatever she was learning. The whole flow of the speech, the accents and pronunciations, the nuances, were all different. _Elladan__ and Elrohir, she mused, recalling the names that she had heard Legolas call out. _Did I ever read about them anywhere?_ If she had, she couldn't remember now. The name Glorfindel and Estel came up too. Estel, she had no clue about. Glorfindel…__wait, she thought, __wasn't that the dude who took Aragorn and the hobbits to Rivendell in the books? Some kind of Elf-lord or something, I think._

She finished dressing, listening to the laughter of Legolas and the two strangers. _God, she thought, _he even laughs melodically_. Her curiosity finally getting the better of her, she peeked out of the closet, making sure that none saw her and almost gasped. The two strangers—_Elladan___ and Elrohir, she reminded herself—were Elves too! __Ya_ think? Of course, Legolas, Lord Elrond, and King Thranduil are the only Elves in Mirkwood, an Elven community!_ But it was still a shock seeing more of these fair creatures. What was even more surprising was the fact that these two were twins! Both with long, dark hair and forest green eyes, they contrasted sharply with Legolas's golden hair and dancing blue eyes. Their complexion was a bit darker, though still fair and the looks on their faces showed that they had just done something very naughty, though amusing. _Wonder what they did…_she thought. _A prank?___ They seemed vaguely familiar for some strange reason._

These two mischievous-looking Elves made her relax a bit. It was comforting knowledge to know that Elves could have a playful streak in them instead of being perfect and beautiful all the time. As she studied them some more, she suddenly noticed what was tugging at her brain. _They look like Elrond! His sons?Did he even have sons? But suddenly, she found herself falling forwards. Without realizing it, she had been leaning further and further out and was now suffering the consequences. Trying to catch herself without using any trained reflexes, she stuck out her arm—which was unfortunately the wrong one, the broken one. She heard the thump as it banged into the wall, immediately sending sparks of pain throughout her arm. "Shit!" the word exploded out of her mouth unintentionally. And so, she went tumbling to the ground in an undignified heap, jarring her arm again, which immediately went numb._

For a moment, nobody did anything as the three Elves stared at her in surprise, and Aria sat on the floor, rubbing her broken arm tenderly as it began to tingle again and glaring at the closet as if it was her worst enemy. She glanced up, and seeing that the Elves were staring at her, quickly jumped to her feet, and wincing as her left arm reminded her not to move so fast. Blushing, she said, "I am so sorry." _Rule number one_, she thought, mentally groaning, _don't make a fool of yourself in front of an esteemed Elf-lord's sons. Then again, maybe that should be rule number three considering as how I already broke one and two. Number one: don't try to jerk an Elf prince's ears off. Number two: don't throw soap at a future king who will eventually have a very large army with very sharp weapons. I wonder; if I wished hard enough, could the ground possibly open and swallow me right now? Unfortunately, wishes didn't come true that easily, and she was left there, rubbing her arm while her eyes stared at the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world and trying not to look as pathetic as she felt. _

Fortunately, she was spared the "uncomfortable silence" by a hand on her arm. She looked up into a pair of concerned blue eyes. *Are you well, arwen en amin?* **[my lady] Legolas gestured to her arm as he spoke. The question was obvious.**

Aria immediately stopped rubbing her arm, though it still hurt. She didn't want to give these people any more trouble. "No, I'm fine, Legolas. Thanks for asking, though." She smiled at him and, as if her mouth had a will of its own, asked, "Who are they?" Aria tilted her head toward the twins, the question clearly stated in her eyes. 

Elladan and Elrohir were intrigued by this young woman. There had been rumors circulating about her ever since she had been brought in, exclamations of "they say her hair is silver!" and "that's impossible! No human has silver hair!" But it appeared that the rumors had been true. An abundance of liquidly silver hair spilled in unchecked waves down this young woman's shoulder, framing a small face with clear grey eyes that were incapable of any deception. It seemed also true that she could not speak the Common tongue.

Aside from the rumors, not many ladies perform some ungraceful in front of the prince of Mirkwood and the sons of Lord Elrond without bursting into tears and running out of the room in shame (which became quite bothersome at times for they would then have to console the simpering court ladies and assure them that they thought none the less of them). But, then again, humans had always been different. Though the scene was quite funny, the twins had quite enough experience with Elven maidens by now to know _not to laugh._

*Them?* Legolas grinned. *They are the two biggest troublemakers in all of Arda.* The twins glared at him. Aria looked curiously on, having not understood a word but knowing that things would be explained somehow. *Well,* he amended, *perhaps my little sisters are catching up. My lady, my lords Elladan and Elrohir.* He pointed to each of them as he spoke, wondering if she could separate who was who.

She did. As soon as Legolas had introduced them by their different names, her brain had immediately begun to sort out distinctions between the two of them. They looked exactly alike, but there were differences. Elrohir, though his face was solemn now, had a sparkle in his eyes that suggested mischievousness and his posture radiated the fact that he lived his life to the limit and loved doing so. Elladan was slightly taller with a more serious face and air about him, though there was a definite glint in his eyes that suggested that he could be every bit roguish as his twin. But her brain analyzed that within seconds. Almost immediately, Aria sank into a graceful curtsy—those years of taking ballet in middle school to enhance her fighting skills had paid off—and spoke demurely, "My lord Elladan. My lord Elrohir." She had caught the titles before the names when Legolas introduced them. Though she had not known what those titles were, she had gone with 'my lord' figuring that if their father was a lord, then they must be lords too. 

Then, hesitantly, she said, "_Quel__ amrun. Im Aria." **[Good morning. I'm Aria.]** At that, the twins broke into identical grins. Aria glanced at Legolas, still a little unsure about her use of the language, but he nodded approvingly and she beamed with delight. _

*Lady Aria,* the twins spoke simultaneously, bowing. 

Turning to Legolas, Elladan said, *It seems that you are quite the teacher, Legolas. You would not believe how many rumors are flying around about your student.*

Legolas groaned. *Truly, we must have been down here for too long if even a young woman that was rescued is attracting this much attention.*

*But she isn't just any human, Legolas.* Elrohir took on a gossipy voice, *That girl has silver hair! Silver hair! And you know what else I heard? She doesn't speak Westron or any language that we know. Even Lord Elrond and King Thranduil couldn't figure out what she was saying!* 

Legolas looked startled. *How did that get out?* 

*What do you think servants do in there spare time, my friend?* Elladan asked with a very un-Elf-like snort. *But half of the nobles of your father's court are gossiping like commoners, along with half of the entourage from Rivendell. Half of the ladies who are seeking the hand of the youngest prince of Mirkwood are seething with jealousy and rage, as well that a young human woman could steal the attentions of their beloved prince.*

_A__ Elbereth! Legolas thought. _This is just what I need._ He heaved a deep sigh, which caused the twins to grin. It was well-known that the youngest heir of Thranduil was sought after by many Elven maidens, perhaps even more than his two elder brothers._

Aria listened in interest to their conversation, still marveling at the smoothness of the language, deciding to stay quiet, though they wouldn't understand her even if she did speak. Her right hand went rubbed unconsciously at her left arm, massaging it to make the pain go away_. I guess I jarred it more than I thought, she mused, suppressing a wince as sharp twinges flared up the length of her arm. _

*A suggestion, _mellon-nîn**[my friend],* Elrohir said, managing to smirk and look sympathetic at the same time. *Go to the feast your father is tonight. If you don't show up more often, I fear my dear Lady Celóndra will track you to this room and break down the door.* At that, Legolas groaned and buried his head in his arms. Aria looked concerned for a moment, until the twins burst out laughing.**_

Legolas, raising his head, glared at them. *Careful, my friends. A certain Lord Glorfindel is still searching—" 

He was cut off by a voice shouting angrily and heading towards them, "ELLADAN! ELROHIR! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU TWO…" A door was opened and then slammed shut. Panicked looks fell across the twins' faces, but before they could move, the door banged open. 

Aria stared. Striding in came an Elf. He looked pretty much as a normal Elf should look, slender physique, piercing gray eyes, and fine facial features. The only thing about him was that his long, flowing hair was a bright, hot pink. The sight of a fuming, over six foot tall Elf with hot pink hair was just too much. A giggle escaped her. They turned to look at her. Another giggle. Then another. The Elf with pink hair looked surprised, then embarrassed. Elladan and Elrohir looked as if they would rather be anywhere but here. Legolas was obviously not to laugh and was quite successful at it. Giggle, giggle. Horrified, Aria clamped a hand over her mouth. Luckily, he turned his attention to the two dark-haired twins.

"Uh…Gl-Glorfindel!" Elladan said nervously. "What a pleasant surprise!"

_Glorfindel__??? Aria thought. She tried not to bury her face in her arms and groan. _Rule number four: don't laugh at important Elf-lords—even if they do have hot pink hair._ The thought almost made her burst out laughing again. From how he was glaring at the twins, it was plain that they were the guilty. _Control yourself, girl!_  _

"We would love to stay and chat," Elrohir added, both of them inching towards the door, "but we have to run some errands for _Ada_."

The pink-haired Elf slammed the door shut. Elladan and Elrohir froze in place, their expressions like those of cornered rabbits looking at a hunter. Aria doubled up in silent laughter as Legolas tried not to do the same, though his lips twitched quite often and his eyes danced in silent amusement. 

"How are you two this morning, Elladan and Elrohir?" Glorfindel's voice was normal and calm. The calm before a storm.

The twins glanced at each other nervously. They rarely saw Glorfindel this angry. But before either of them could speak, Glorfindel interrupted, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA—" But at that point in the beginning of a tirade which would have undoubtedly lasted quite a while, he was interrupted as the door banged open yet again. 

Two small, golden-haired figures dashed in, hurling themselves at Legolas with hugs. "Leggy! Where have you been?" one said in a loud, demanding tone. "We haven't seen you—"

"—in ages and ages!" the other finished. And before Legolas could utter a word from his position on the floor where the two little figures had knocked him down and were currently sitting on him, the person continued, turning wide blue eyes to Glorfindel, "Glorfy, why is your hair _pink?"_

"I bet," the first golden-haired bundle said, a grin almost splitting her face in two, "'Ro 'n 'Dan did it," oblivious to the frantic, silent "No's!."

"Change it back, Glorfy!" the second speaker resumed, a solemn look dawning on her face. "I don't want to be mean, but you don't look pretty with pink hair." 

"Elli! Cerri! Apologize to Lord Glorfindel at once! Do not shame our family with your disrespect!" Legolas commanded sternly, or it would have been sharp if he had not been trying hard not to laugh while he spoke. 

Two identical faces pouted, turning towards Legolas, protesting, "It's true!" in one voice. Aria laughed at the expressions on their faces. Two pairs of sky blue eyes turned towards her. Golden curls framed tiny, angelic faces. They were dressed in fine, silken dresses, as blue as their eyes. "Leggy, her hair is pretty. It's silver and shiny and shimmery and pretty. Who's she?" one asked in a loud whisper to Legolas. He turned his head towards her as well. The resemblance struck her immediately; they were obviously his little sisters. 

*Elli, Cerri,* Legolas began, switching to Sindarin, *this is Lady Aria.* 

Systematically, the twins jumped up and curtsied synchronously, with a, *Lady Aria.*

*Lady Aria,* Legolas continued, standing up, *my little sisters Elaviel and Cerricwyn.*

With a light laugh, she crouched down to their eye level. "Hello, Elli and Cerri. I think we are going to be very good friends." She smiled at them, a gentle, sisterly smile. They reminded her of Johnny, the innocence and childishness obvious in their eyes and posture. Legolas was startled, not many adults bothered with the twins unless they pestered them. They were usually greeted and then ignored.

The twins, though they had not understood anything Aria had said, broke into large grins upon hearing their nicknames, Elli and Cerri, and with a look at each other, agreed that Lady Aria was very nice through that unspoken connection that they had. Cerri tugged at Legolas's sleeve, asking, *Leggy, what did the nice lady say?* 

*I do not know, Cerri,* he replied. *The nice lady does not speak Sindarin or Quenya.*

*What about the one that everyone speaks?* Elli asked, frowning slightly.

*She does not speak that either, Elli. Be good to the nice lady, Elli, Cerri, or she will not pay attention to you anymore.* Legolas warned, remembering how many times various Elven lords and ladies had complained to him and his family about how the twins were always pestering them.

*We'll be good,* they both said earnestly. "We promise.* _They__ remind me a little too much of Elladan and Elrohir when they speak like that, Legolas thought._

*Glorfy!* Elli called, distracting him from what the Elf had been doing for the past few minutes—glaring daggers at Elladan and Elrohir who seemed to be looking for a way out of the room before Glorfindel could unleash his wrath upon them. *Uncle wants to talk to you.* The twins had always referred to Lord Elrond as Uncle, and Lord Elrond had always treated them like his little nieces. 

Glorfindel looked very reluctant to leave, his footsteps dragging as he walked toward the door, shooting death glares at Elladan and Elrohir up to the point where he couldn't see them anymore. The moment Glorfindel was gone from sight, the Rivendell twins let out two huge sighs of relief. 

*'Ro, 'Dan, you two better get moving.* Cerri said.

*Whatever for, Little Cerri?* Elrohir asked. He grinned, saying, "We are safe for at least an hour.*

Ellli shot him a look that said you're-so-stupid, *You don't really think Uncle had to see Glorfy, do you?*

The twins froze once again. *You mean—?* Elladan asked, the question obvious.

*You didn't!* Legolas breathed.

Cerri smirked, a strange expression on such an angelic face, though one Aria suspected was found on that face quite often. *We know all about your prank, 'Dan.* Her voice became serious, one professional prankster talking to another. *You were sloppy this time, and since you _have_ taught us _many_ new methods*—Legolas groaned at that—*we decided to help you clean up a bit.*

*So we suggest,* Elli took up, also smirking, *that you get away quickly before Glorfy comes back and finds out that it was a trick.*

*Ah…* Elladan said, making his way toward the door. *We will be leaving now, Legolas. Remember what we said about the feast tonight.* He bowed once more to Aria. *My lady.* And with that, he was through the door.

Elrohir stood for a moment and stared at the Mirkwood twins, who looked up at him ingenuously, any signs of a smirk gone. Then he shook his head, bowed to Aria, and disappeared silently into the corridor along with his twin.

Elli and Cerri burst into giggles afterwards as Legolas shot a half-despairing, half-affectionate look towards them. *We have to go too, Leggy,* Elli said in a somber voice.

Cerri made a face. *Once _Ada_ finds out, he's going to be mad, so we have to hide too.* They both kissed him on the cheek and dashed away. *Bye, Leggy!* they called out as they left.

Cerri reappeared one last time, sticking her head through the doorway. *We _know_ you won't tell on us.* she said before a *Come on, Cerri!* led her down the hallway again.

Yet again, they reappeared. Rushing into the room, they both gave Aria a hug. With a laugh of delight, she hugged the small bodies back. Then they were gone with one last, *Bye, Ari!* 

For a second, time seemed to freeze for Aria. _Ari__ Ari Ari Ari Ari Why did you leave me, Ari?__ Why did you leave me, Ari? Ari? Ari?Ari?Ari? With an effort, she resumed an easygoing manner. Legolas looked at the doorway and heaved a sigh, a half-smile playing around his lips before turning back to her. By that time, she was in control of her emotions again. _

Legolas looked concerned and, pointing to her arm, asked, *Are you well, my lady?* 

Aria realized that without meaning to, she had begun rubbing her arm again. Immediately, she stopped, saying, "I'm fine." _God, I think I shook it up a little too much when I bumped into that wall, she thought as her arm sent up rapid twinges of pain, telling her that she was _not_ fine. But, she stubbornly ignored it all._

They spent the rest of the morning once again learning each other's languages, covering the objects in the rooms that they had not gotten to the day before. At noon, a servant brought them lunch, full of various foods that Aria had never seen before in her life. As they sat down to eat, Lord Elrond paid them a visit. 

*Lord Elrond,* Legolas greeted, standing up. Aria did the same, not wanting to appear rude. 

*Young prince,* Elrond acknowledged, looking a bit distracted. *Have you seen my sons?* He sighed. *It seems that Elladan and Elrohir have played another prank on Lord Glorfindel.* His lips twitched as he was about to smile. *He is quite angry at the two of them.*

*Elladan and Elrohir, my lord?* Legolas asked, his expression thoughtful. *I have not seen them today.* Aria suppressed a grin. From the names Elladan and Elrohir, she could guess what was being discussed.

Lord Elrond gave Legolas a piercing look to which Legolas did not respond. Finally, he sighed. *Perhaps you have, young prince.* He raised a hand to stop any protests as Legolas opened his mouth. *But I will not force you to betray your friends.* Suddenly, his voice cracked out to Aria's direction, as sharp as a whip, *What are you doing, young lady?*

Startled at the stern tone of Lord Elrond's voice, Aria dropped her right arm. She had been rubbing her broken arm again. With a sigh, he gestured for her to let him see her arm. Aria immediately began saying, "No, I'm fine. My arm doesn't hurt." _You're lying through your teeth…_ But a wince gave her away as she accidentally moved her left arm. Reluctantly, she rolled up her sleeve and submitted herself to his ministrations. Her arm had been broken in two places, at her forearm and upper arm. She had not even noticed the break in her forearm before for all her concentration on other things. It was only a gentle break, though. The break of her forearm had been much worse. Lord Elrond soon pronounced to her (though she couldn't understand) and Legolas that she had shaken the bone from how it was set, and that he would have to reset it.

Lord Elrond reset the bone in Aria's forearm, with her gritting her teeth against the pain. She probably could've gone through the process without so much as a wince, but she didn't want them to get suspicious. He also rebandaged both breaks, telling Legolas, "Your young student is almost as bad as you and Estel when it comes to injuries, young prince. A set bone being shaken out of place is quite painful, as I'm sure you and Estel already know."

"Surely we are not as stubborn as you say!" Legolas protested.

Lord Elrond sighed exasperatedly. "I think I remember that one time where some of my healers left because you two would not stay in bed. And the time you and Estel came back from that hunting trip with numerous broken ribs and severe loss of blood, proclaiming that you were "just fine." And then—"

Legolas raised his hands in defeat. "Point taken, my lord."

Lord Elrond finished bandaging Aria's arm. He gave her a stern look accompanied with a command not to make the break worse. She understood what he was saying as clearly as if he had been speaking in English. With that, he left, saying, "I must find Elladan and Elrohir." He smiled wryly, "unless Glorfindel has already found them." 

With a laugh, Legolas sat down at the table that contained their lunch, gesturing for her to do the same. *If Elladan and Elrohir are lucky, Glorfindel won't find them. If they are not…* he broke off there, laughing once again. 

Aria laughed along with him, the names immediately hinting at what he was talking about. They had come to an unspoken agreement the day before to converse with each other as if there was no language barrier between them. It made everything seem a lot more real and the atmosphere more friendly. 

Legolas continued, *Elli and Cerri will get into trouble as well when _Ada_ finds them. Still, they will find a way out of punishment. They always do. My father, King Thranduil has always been lenient with them.* He proceeded to describe his family. *I have two older brothers. Calith—he's my eldest brother—will be heir to my father's throne. He is, fortunately, the most diplomatic of us three and is currently in Lothlórien, along with my sister, Norith, who is the oldest of us six. Tándir,* he frowned a little, *he is behaving strangely these days, always picking fights with me.* Legolas sighed, remembering the situation. *I do not know what is wrong. We used to be the best of friends, and close brothers. Now…all we do is fight.* He lapsed into silence.

Aria was gazing at him, though he didn't seem to notice, too busy frowning at his food. *You're way too hot for your own good, do you know that?* Aria asked him. He looked up. "I mean you seem to be perfect in every way. Girls would kill to get your hair and that skin. You're kind and polite—God, I can't believe I'm saying all this. I sound like one of your fangirls.* Legolas looked at her curiously. For once, she was deeply glad that he didn't know what she was saying. He continued peering at her, and she hesitated.

_Should I tell him about my parents?_ she wondered. _Well, he won't understand you anyway, the other part of her mind said wryly. He wouldn't. But she had been keeping this secret for so long. Could she truly let it go so easily? __Why am I hesitating? I should be relieved to finally tell someone. She didn't know whether she could trust him or not. __Hello, he won't understand you…That was true, but this secret had been her life, had been her brother's life. _Tell him. For Johnny's sake.__

"Legolas…" she began slowly, her right hand clenching in her lap. He continued looking at her, waiting for her continue. He noticed that her expression had suddenly become tense. She suddenly looked at him, and for a moment, he was taken aback by the intensity in her eyes. "I want you to know the truth about my life. Being taken to this place feels like a fresh start for me, a place where I can be myself and not have to worry about enemies and parents every minute. I don't want you to be like my friends, who don't know the truth about me. They see only what I want them to see." She smiled bitterly—how good she had become at this deception! "I don't want you to be like that. I want you to be my friend—my true friend." 

Legolas could tell that she was telling him something very serious. With every word, her eyes seemed to become more solemn, more tense, yet relieved in a strange way. To say that he had been startled at the smile so full of bitterness and self-loathing was an understatement. What could have happened in the life of this innocent young woman for such emotions to surface? He remembered the bruises she had been with when she first came. Something to do with that?

Aria spoke again after a long moment of silence, looking down at her hands. "My parents…they're abusive. I don't know how it happened. They used to be kind and caring." She smiled sadly at the memory. "But they changed one day. They became abusive, telling me that if I went to the police or told anyone, they would harm my little brother, Johnny. Using a child for blackmail…" She didn't mention her weapons training. Aria stared into Legolas's eyes for a long moment before smiling. "You're the first person I've ever told that, even though you can't understand me. When we can understand each other, I'll explain everything more clearly." _When you find out that I can use weapons…_she added silently. 

Legolas's expression was thoughtful, truly wondering about this strange young woman. The rest of the meal was finished in silence. 

But Aria was relieved that she had finally told someone. _I'm going to trust you, Legolas Greenleaf…well, not completely yet. But I promise that when I can communicate, I will tell you everything, even about my weapons training. So I'm giving you my trust. Please don't shatter it like my parents did. Please don't shatter my trust.  _

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ok, you guys. I would've continued writing about the feast and all but that was seventeen pages already. Yup, **seventeen full pages**. I haven't put up the notes at the beginning that I'm going to leave yet, so it's 17 pages of the story. That's my way of saying I'm so sorry I didn't update.

Anyways, I figured out that fiddles and violins are the same thing! (asked a professional violin person) They have fiddles in Middle-earth, don't they? And what kind of hairstyles would they have in Middle-earth? Also, can someone help me come up with some girls names? I wanna change Aria's best friend's name. Cuz Lilly is my real name. Now before you start thinking self-insert, like I said, this was a spur of the moment fic, and I was out of name ideas and I just never got around to changing it till now. So please give me some suggestions…seeing my real name in a fic makes me nervous. What do you think of some of the following:

Alethea

Lena

Aleia

Kira

Celena

Kiara

Rhea

Any other suggestions??? Please tell me what you think! and I figured out how I'm gonna let her show her skills, though it'll be a while before she does. Spent a really long time on the phone with my friend to figure it out. Thanx, E! (E, you know I'm talkin' to you! Didn't know what to call you cuz I don't know if you wanted your name on the internet ^_^ ) 

Well, I'm going to MA for the next four weeks so I don't know if I'm gonna be able to update…I'll try to though! Bye! Luv you all! 

~Angel of Death~


	15. Tala Root

**The Art of Deception**

ToE: psst! Elladan! Is it safe out?

Elladan: *looks around at the angry reviewers all holding large objects* Yup! ^_^

ToE: *steps out of hiding place* whew…I thought they were gonna kill—*dodges a rather large mirror thrown at head* O_O  ELLADAN!!!!! You big meanie!!!! You said that it was safe! *runs back to hiding place*

Elladan: *sighs disappointedly* I was hoping that one would hit her…

SORRY SO MUCH FOR TAKING SO LONG!!!!

Disclaimer: don't own it, obviously.

**Chapter Thirteen: _Tala_ Root**

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Aria's  POV (first person)*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I stared at myself hard in the mirror.

Lifting a finger, I pointed to my reflection and said, "You. Are. An. Idiot."

Whirling away from the mirror, not so quickly as to hurt my arm, I began pacing the room. Legolas had left shortly after lunch, excusing himself politely, of course. He said something about Lord Elrond, but that was all I caught.

What was I thinking, going and telling Legolas (I'm still convincing myself that he really is the real thing) all about my parents. I mean, I know he couldn't understand what I was saying, but what if he remembered when we actually could communicate?

_Oh come on,_ I mentally scoffed. _No one can remember a conversation in another language that they don't even know._

_Well, Legolas is an Elf,_ I reminded myself.

And even if he doesn't remember…He's almost a complete stranger! I can't believe what I did!

And now I'm contradicting myself! What happened to, "I wanna trust someone,"? What happened to "This is a new beginning,"? God damn, I don't make any sense! Plopping down on a bed, though not as hard as I would've liked, I let out a huge sigh. 

Why was I like this today, anyway? I have never been this emotional since my parents became psychos. Emotions were always better bottled up inside. There, they only bothered you and no one else, which meant less pain during lessons. There, they meant that you could hide them during the day and stay your normal self. 

Now that I come to think of it, I had been feeling strange ever since I woke up. One moment, I felt like sobbing my heart out, the next, laughing my ass off. What the hell was wrong with me? _Did they poison me?_

_Oh, come one Aria!_ my mind shouted. _That's a little too suspicious even for you!_ Great, now I'm becoming delusional too (though I might already be insane). Sighing once again, I buried my face in the soft pillow, trying to focus my mind on something else.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Omniscient POV~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

A/N: just assume everything's being said in Elvish until I say otherwise.

"Pardon me, my lady. I must leave you for a short time to discuss some matters with Lord Elrond," Legolas said politely with a bow. Aria smiled and waved, still sitting at the now clear table as he walked out of the room. "Watch after Lady Aria while I am not here. If she leaves, see where she is going but if it is only to the privy, do not wait for her there. We do not want to make our guest uncomfortable," he instructed two guards outside the door."

"Of course, your highness," they replied obediently. Satisfied, Legolas strode away, making his way to Lord Elrond's quarters.

Though his expression didn't show it, Legolas was troubled. He still remembered vividly the bitterness of Aria's tone as she spoke of something he could not understand. She had looked so solemn, so serious, as if she were imparting a major secret to him. _She's so young, he pondered. _What could have happened to her that she should be so bitter? And yet she changes. She seems so happy and cheerful when I see her, the true innocent that she should be at that age…and yet, yet… __

He wondered if those emotions were just side-effects, recalling the words of Lord Elrond. _"…Be very careful with her for the next few days, Legolas. The antidote of that poison contains _tala_ root. _

_"_Tala_ root, my lord?" Legolas questioned, puzzled._

_"Yes, young prince. It is an herb used by seers to heighten spiritual awareness in hopes of receiving a vision. However, for one without the Sight, it contains some rather unusual side effects. Her emotions will probably run higher than normal, with more outbursts or strong feelings. At the worst, she may even experience delusions, or in some special cases, even a vision or two.  She might jump to conclusions very quickly on some subjects, and her thoughts will not be as clear. But it is not dangerous, normally. Just watch her more closely than you normally would for the next few days, until the side-effects wear off."_

_Was that just an emotion that had been pent up for too long? Perhaps just a trivial matter that I am overthinking too much_, he mused. _But…_ He tried to remember the sounds of what she had said. A few were clear to him, the rest just a jumble of words he did not understand. 

His thoughts were cut off by a sickly sweet voice calling out, "Why, Prince Legolas!"

Legolas froze. He recognized that voice. His eyes searched for an escape route, but suddenly, the voice was right behind him.

"Prince Legolas!" the voice said again, a whine beginning to find its way into the tone.

_Ah_, Legolas lamented, _where is my speed and agility now?_ He turned around, bowing and saying politely, "Lady Celóndra." Facing him was a young Elven maiden. She was beautiful, her hair long and dark, falling down her back. Her eyes mirrored the green forest. A perfect figure along with porcelain skin and rosy lips that were often in a pout made her irresistible to any male. And many would have had her had she not been so intent on claiming the youngest prince of Mirkwood as her husband. 

When Legolas had first met her, he had been entranced, her beauty rivaling even that of the Evenstar's. But after a few sessions of endless fluttering eyelashes and coy smiles, combined with a mean-spirited personality, he had been quick enough to stay away. However, she still pursued him with an iron will, and try as he might, he could not avoid her. 

"My prince," she pouted, "barely anyone has seen you for days! Where have you been?"

"I have had matters to attend to, my lady. Forgive my absence," Legolas replied courteously, though he was inwardly wishing that someone would walk by and rescue him from the current situation. No doubt she would ask him if he was attending the ball tonight. 

Fortunately, she did not pursue that topic yet. "Matters, my prince?" she asked sweetly. "Are the rumors true that you found a _woman while hunting orcs?"_

Legolas didn't miss the emphasis on the words 'woman.' Nor did he miss the slight disdain with which she said those words or the suddenly primal flash of anger in those green eyes. He considered his reply carefully. "I am not aware of what the rumors speak of, my lady, but I did find a human girl. She was seriously injured."

"But Prince Legolas," she continued, whining, "why must you spend all your time with that…that…woman?!"

"My lady," Legolas began—_Elbereth__ give me patience, he thought—, "Because it was I who found her, it is my responsibility to care for her until she is well and may communicate with other humans. She does not speak any language known to us."_

For a moment, all of Lady Celóndra's emotions were evident on her face. Anger, rage, hatred, jealousy. But, as was the ability of all Elves, they were gone in an instant. She put on a sweet smile, speaking in a sugar-coated tone that seemed somewhat poisoned, "Then, my prince, she absolutely must attend the feast tonight to experience Mirkwood's finest hospitality. And of course, I shall sit next to the young woman to show her just how friendly we Elves of Mirkwood can be. I shall see you at the ball tonight, my prince." She curtsied prettily, with another sweet smile, and took her leave before Legolas could utter a single word of protest.

Legolas just stood there for a moment, before shaking his head and walking off to try to find Lord Elrond, whom he had promised to report to about his patient's condition. His mind, however, was preoccupied. He would need to find more gowns for Aria, since Lady Celóndra would probably have told everyone by now that there "dear new visitor" was going to the feast. It would not make a good impression on the Elves of Mirkwood, who were rather suspicious by nature because of the environment in which they lived, if she did not show up. And since Legolas was currently acting the part of protector and teacher, he would have to attend by default. He sighed, shaking his head a little. There was no getting out of attending the feast now. 

He continued on his way to Lord Elrond's chambers, one more worry added to his growing list.

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Aria turned over, staring at the ceiling. She had been lying on the bed for perhaps five minutes. Her arm was gently cradled in a pillow, though it did not pain her currently. She was forcing herself to think about the issues she had been avoiding. She stared into space as her thoughts raced inside her head.

_Where do my parents think I've gone? Do they think I've run away?_ She shook her head. _Surely they would not expect me to abandon Johnny!_

**_Why did you leave me, Ari?_**

_Oh God_. An overwhelming sense of guilt, which had been growing in her mind for the past day, seemed to completely envelope her. She had left him, left the brother that she had sworn to protect. Left him to their parents. What would they do to him now that she was not there? Would he be the next person they wanted to "train"? 

_No_, she thought fiercely, _I will not give myself up to this guilt. If I do, I am of no use to anyone. Wallowing in guilt will help no more than wallowing in self-misery. I need to think of a way to get back. How do I get back? By now, it's obvious that I am in no place I've ever heard of or seen. _

Aria sighed, closing her eyes. Against her will, the images from that day flashed before her closed eyelids. School. Arriving home. Finding Johnny. Packing everything. Leading Johnny to the front door. Her parents, in black robes, bursting in.

_Her father came first, dressed in a what looked like a black bathrobe. In instant reflex, she hurled one of her daggers. But this was not in practice. This was real, deadly earnest. It plunged into his chest, and he staggered. With a look of surprise, he crumpled to the ground. _

Aria's eyes snapped open at once and she sat up abruptly. 

_I killed my father._

She shivered, but not because it was cold in any way. She was horrified at herself. She had never really reflected upon what she had done yet, and this reflection shocked her. 

No, she was not shocked that she had killed a person, her own father at that. _Though no true father would ever act like that_, she thought bitterly.

She was horrified that she had no feelings on that subject matter.

She did not feel disgust at killing. She did not regret what she did. She felt…nothing. _Have I truly become such a cold-blooded human being?_ she wondered, chills running down her spine. _Am I so far gone now that I do not even have feelings about killing? _She searched her mind and heart for any hint of remorse but found none. Her thoughts suddenly became cold, almost analytical. _There is a chance that he might have survived. They've always been different. Maybe I'll just kill him again then, she thought with a sadistic sort of humor. _

_Oh my God…did I just think that?_ she wondered. Now she was really freaking herself out. She lay back down on the soft bed and closed her eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace in the darkness of her eyelids. 

_Ari__…Her brother walked towards her, his expression one of longing and happiness. Aria opened her eyes, deciding that it was better to focus on thinking.  
  
_

Except for one thing…

The image didn't disappear. Johnny continued walking towards her. 

For a moment, Aria gaped. The only thought that registered in her completely blank mind was, _huh?_

And then the gears began rolling again and panic seeped in. _What the fuck? she thought frantically. She blinked furiously. Her brother continued walking towards her. He was only a few feet away from the bed now, and Aria had gone into full panic mode. _Oh my God…this is not happening. Not happening, not happening. I'm going crazy! I swear, something is wrong…THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!!! I am not hallucinating or having delusions or…__

Johnny, or whatever he was, stopped at the foot of her bed. She stared at him. 

_"Ari…"_ he said in that familiar little boy voice. As if in a trance, she slowly reached towards him, unsure of what he was—an apparition, a delusion, what? Her fingers trembled as they drew nearer to his smiling face but just as they were about to touch his cheek, he faded away, disappearing into nothingness. Her fingers remained where they were, her eyes staring at the spot where he had been standing. 

And then, with a suddenness that made her arm complain, she jumped off the bed, heading towards the door. _I need to get out, she thought unsteadily. __I'm hallucinating…God, I'm going insane! She was still trembling all over, little tremors that she couldn't seem to control, as she neared the doorway. Aria stopped then, taking deep, calming, silent breaths. __Calm down, calm down, she repeated over and over to herself in her head. _Be like you are at school,_ she told herself. _That's the best way. __

Her breathing evened out. Her face took on a mask of calm. Her posture changed from one of panic and hysteria to that of a person simply taking a walk. A pleasant expression was set in her face, seemingly normal and serene. When she looked at her hands, they were steady.

If she had been an observer looking in on herself, she would have been fearful of the sudden rapid changes that had occurred. She would have been worried about how her everyday façade had become so ingrained into her mannerisms. She would have looked on with despair at the person she had become.

But she wasn't another person, looking at herself. And so she did not see. 

So with that same manner of peace and tranquility, she calmly walked out of the door, smiling at the guards ever so charmingly, and headed towards the bathroom.

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YES EVERYONE I'M FUCKING SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE SOONER!!!! I wouldn't blame you if you stopped reading…and I know this chapter was freakin short and sucked like crap (I didn't edit/proofread or anything…and the storyline sucked) …but please just deal with it until the next chapter which will hopefully come soon and be a LOT better. AND DON'T WORRY I'M DEFINITELY NOT GONNA GIVE UP ON THIS STORY!!!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND PATIENCE!!!! 

                                                            ~Tears of Eternity~

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Preview of the next chapter (or next next chapter…depends on how the next chapter goes) ^_^ :

…Everyone stared on, frozen to their seats. All of a sudden, the deep racking coughs that had taken ahold of Aria stopped. Her breath was raspy and uneven, as if it took effort just to take in air.

Aria stared at her hands. All the Elves followed her gaze. Silence sat with wings light as air yet heavy as stone.

Her hands were covered with blood.

Her eyes seemed to glaze over. She was muttering to herself, her bloodstained hands unmoving. And suddenly she looked up, her eyes seeming to pierce everyone around her.

Her voice came out, harsh, guttural and she spoke in the Elvish language, in the language she had not yet learned, "I will not die by your hand!"

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